Draco Malfoy and the Bloodstone
by Quothed Nevermore
Summary: Draco Malfoy is in his fourth year at Hogwart's Academy. A mysterious new student seems to fog over Malfoy's year. He wants nothing to do with her, but can a strange girl like Lisha help Malfoy discover something about himself he never knew existed? 9/28
1. Draco Malfoy and the Bloodstone: Chapter...

Author's Note: First off, I know this is not what happened in the fourth year at Hogwarts, I've read the book. But, I am a die-hard Malfoy fan, and so I twisted the story.. a lot. But then again, I've read a lot of fics like that, so you shouldn't have too much trouble accepting this one!

_Draco Malfoy_  
And the Bloodstone  
__ _ _ _ _By Ti'ana_

_Chapter One_

"Hogwarts Express departing from platform nine and three-quarters. All _aboard_!"  
  
Platform nine and three-quarters was bustling with activity. Children accompanied by parents were tearfully bidding good-bye, some more than others comforting their mothers than vice-versa.  
  
"Ma, I gotta go!" One boy, a blond-haired teenager, pulled roughly away from his mother, who had her arms wrapped tightly around him. He struggled to pull a black robe over his head while had a vice grip on him. Behind his mother, he could see two boys approaching, who were much taller than him, and a lot wider.   
  
"Oh, but after what happened last year!" The mother drew back to emphasize her emotion. "It will be so difficult for me to know for sure you are safe at that ramshackle school of yours." Her eyes watered. "You aren't taking Care of Magical Creatures next year, are you?"  
  
"No," he mumbled, and straightened his shirt. It was a blatant lie, of course, but he couldn't risk being bothered by his mother for much longer.  
  
"Stay away from that Hagrid creature! He's a menace to society. Why, if I were the headmaster at Hogwarts Academy for Witchcraft and Wizardry..." The whistle of the train cut her off mid-sentence. "Oh, dear, you'd better hurry onto the train, you're late! Quit your lolligagging and get on the train!" She pushed his bangs back and planted a wet kiss on his forehead. "Your father sends his blessings, Draco. Be a good boy, don't get into trouble. Now hurry off!"  
  
Gratefully, Draco walked past his mother to the two larger boys who were standing, waiting for him. Dragging behind him an overstuffed duffel bag, he walked after them, and they followed him close behind.  
  
One of them clasped his hands together. In a high, mimicking voice, he squeaked, "Be a a good boy, Draco! Don't get into trouble, Draco!' Good one, Malfoy!"  
  
The pale face of Draco turned crimson. "Shut your trap, Goyle!"  
  
The faint voice of his mother, Narcissa, called, "And stay away from the Potter boy!"  
  
Goyle and the other boy, Crabbe, burst out laughing. If it were possible, Draco's face bubbled red. He glanced around the near-empty platform. "C'mon, we're gonna miss the train." He strutted to the train, his head held high and shoulders back.  
  
Then he stopped, and dropped his bag. "Where's your luggage?"  
  
"On the train," both Goyle and Crabbe answered at the same time. They glared at each other, and within seconds were raining down fists on the other's head, stomach and shoulder. Malfoy rolled his pale blue eyes and shook his head.  
  
"I don't believe this." He picked the duffel bag up and traveled on over to the Hogwarts Express, the fighting Goyle and Crabbe close behind him.  
  
Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were in their fourth year at Hogwarts Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They were in the Slytherin House, where most dark wizards and witches had once studied. Malfoy's placement in the Slytherin House was well-chosen; his father, Lucius Malfoy, had worked for the Dark Lord, Voldemort, who vanished temporarily after the unsuccessful murder of Harry Potter. He returned, though, several times since then to seek revenge. Lucius Malfoy and his family seemingly transformed into a well-bred family, obviously _too_ well. His son Draco was not only conceited and conniving, he had a need for power. That was the reason he hung around dimwits like Crabbe and Goyle; they were easy to persuade and order around.  
  
On the train, Draco Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle found their usual seats occupied by a young, somber-looking girl in her school robe, a light travel bag and a cage with a small owl that hooted unhappily when the three entered. Malfoy looked to his friends, grinned and nodded. The three were notorious for bullying other students, male or female.  
  
"Excuse us," Malfoy stated. The girl raised a pair of sad brown eyes. The shape of her face was hidden by locks of dark brown hair and a black hood pulled just above her forehead. She was pretty, but not very healthy-looking, as if she had been sick for months. Her pale face also reflected that.  
  
It seemed, for a moment, as if she would argue, but at the last second changed her mind. Her shoulders drooped, and her eyes feel back to the floor as she moved over several seats. Her bag she placed at her feet, and the caged owl in the seat next to her. No one spoke as her eyes moved from the floor out the window.  
  
Crabbe was the first to break the silence. "No." He raised his hand and closed his eyes simply to say the word "Out."  
  
Again, the dark pools stared at them, and finally landed on Crabbe. He was taken aback by her silent defiance. His mouth dropped open.  
  
"First years," Malfoy mumbled. He said, and his mindless followers did as well.  
  
The train whistle blew again, signaling the train was departing.  
  
"Fourth year." The soft voice startled the three.  
  
"What was that about fourth years?!" Goyle stood, but feel back into his seat as the train jerked forward, picking up speed. Crabbe began cracking his knuckles and pounding his fist into his palm. When the train started moving, he stood and walked over to her, as if he were about to deck her. Malfoy smacked the much larger Crabbe on the side of the head, and he obediently sat.  
  
"WE are fourth years. If you were, we'd remember someone as pathetic-looking as you are."  
  
The insult had nary an affect on her. "I am a fourth year," she said mechanically, monotonously, as if she were drained. "In Slytherin." To her, it seemed the response was adequate enough information. She could tell, most definitely, by the looks on their faces her words brought to them no content or answers.  
  
Draco mumbled something under his breath about if she was a Slytherin, they'd definitely know her. He stood and proclaimed, "All right. Let's go find Potter. We didn't welcome him back to Hogwarts yet."  
  
"But we're not at Hogwarts," Goyle replied dumbly.  
  
"I plan on giving him an early greeting." Malfoy knew Harry Potter sat for the most part with two other Gryffindors, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Malfoy was the first wizard boy Harry had ever met. He figured he would be able to befriend him, the famous Harry Potter, but this was not to be, especially after Malfoy tried to dissuade Harry from hanging around his now-best friend Ron ("You'll soon find," he had said, "some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there...").  
  
"Well, well, well, what do we have here? The Potter, Gangly and Weasel!" Malfoy grinned smugly at Hermione's red face, and Ron's fuming anger. Harry was the only one who seemed unaffected.  
  
"Why don't you go suck an egg, Malfoy?" Ron was clenching his fists.  
  
Malfoy answered, nonchalantly, "Well, I'd ask you for one, but your family's probably too poor to afford..." He was cut short by a sharp blow to the stomach. Hermione and Harry jumped up to stop Ron from tackling the small-framed Malfoy to the ground. Crabbe and Goyle started to advance on the red-haired Ron, but Malfoy, with the one hand that wasn't clutching his stomach, motioned for them to get back. When the two had calmed down (much to their relief, no teacher had overheard the scuffle), Malfoy stared down on the seated Ron. "Watch your back, Weasley. Just 'cause you were born into a pureblooded family doesn't make you any higher on my list of favorites. Let's go." His two accomplices followed like a pair of faithful dogs as he left.  
  
As the door of the compartment closed, Draco could hear the fainted laughter of Ron, Harry and Hermione. He sighed, and went back to his seat.


	2. Draco Malfoy and the Bloodstone: Chapter...

_Draco Malfoy_  
And the Bloodstone  
__ _ _ _ _By Ti'ana_

_Chapter Two_

The three waited for the train to empty before they left. Usually, they were one of the first ones off, but Malfoy waited especially so he didn't have to speak with the odd girl in their train compartment.  
  
When Malfoy figured the train was almost empty, they left for the horseless carriages that would bring them to the school. Only a dozen or so were left (most of them they could still see were leaving), and they boarded the one nearest to them. Malfoy practically exploded when he stepped into it.  
  
"You! You.. you!!"  
  
The sad-eyed girl in the hooded cloak smiled dimly. "Nice to see you, too."  
  
He growled and looked out. All the other carriages were leaving. "This is great, just great." Reluctantly, he sat beside the girl. "Don't talk to me, alright?"  
  
"Wasn't planning to," she answered, staring out of the carriage.  
  
"Didn't you hear what I said? Don't... talk to me."  
  
She laughed a little, but didn't answer him. He wasn't worth getting upset over, and this obviously annoyed him. He slumped back into his seat as Crabbe plopped down next to him, and Goyle pushed them over, causing Malfoy to squish the girl against the wall. She whimpered, respecting his "don't talk to me" rule.  
  
The trip to Hogwarts Academy was the longest it had ever been in Malfoy's four years of studying there. Usually, he and he and his two friend would discuss what they planned to do that year, and most of it dealt with bothering Harry Potter and his Muggle-loving Ron and Mudblood friend Hermione. But with.. with HER next to them, it would take the fun out of all their secretive scheming. So it was a quiet, tense trip.  
  
When the finally arrived, Malfoy climbed over Crabbe in an attempt to get out first, but winded up on Goyle's lap, who shoved him off. Malfoy wound up falling out of the carriage and landing hard on his knees, dirtying his black robe. Grimly, he dusted himself off and made his way over to the entrance hall. The stone walls were lit with torches, and Malfoy made some crack about the first years, clapping at the song the Sorting Hat was singing.  
  
"That means the feast hasn't started yet. Let's go." The three watched the Sorting for a few minutes. They found the Slytherin table as "Pritchard, Graham!" was placed in their house. Malfoy clapped quickly and sat.  
  
He heard a groan beside him, and fell off his seat when he turned to see who it was. "Are you following me or something?!"  
  
The girl frowned. Her hood was no longer covering her face, and Malfoy noted something awkward about her expression, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He had to admit, though, she was a lot prettier than she was pleasant. "I was sitting in the carriage first. I sat HERE first. Maybe you're following me around!"  
  
"Me, follow you!" He laughed haughtily. "I didn't see you at the Sorting. You must have thought you would go straight to Slytherin to..."  
  
"I told you, I am a fourth year!"  
  
"We would recognize a fourth year."  
  
Her eyes darted between the three of them. "Well I know you. Goyle, Crabbe... and Draco Malfoy. It's understandable, though, why I am not memorable." She sighed sadly as the last first year ("Whitby, Kevin!") paraded over to the Hufflepuff table. She continued to speak, more to herself than Malfoy, but the Bloody Baron, the Slytherin House's ghost, was listening intently. He had glided behind Malfoy, who never liked the silver bloodstained specter. "I left Hogwarts less than one month after Sorting. My name is..."  
  
"Lisha Luralby." The voice that finished her statement was the Bloody Baron. "I remember when you were first sent over to the Slytherin house. I stopped Peeves from dropping a.... a.... water balloon, that's it, on you. Foolish poltergeist." Everyone gaped; the Bloody Baron hardly ever said a word.  
  
"Well, why'd you leave?" Crabbe had suddenly taken a great interest in the girl that had vanished from the school.  
  
"Personal reasons I'd rather not discuss."  
  
"Probably extreme poverty, if she's anything like Weasley," Malfoy cracked, whispering to Goyle. His large friend just looked down at him unhappily. Malfoy's smirk was wiped off his face, and he slumped back into his chair. "Pass the gravy," he mumbled incoherently. No one paid attention.  
  
"So you were placed into Slytherin? Do you have any siblings before you?" Goyle ignored Malfoy's pale cheeks turn pink in anger as he leaned across the table to grab the pitcher of pumpkin juice.  
  
"No," Lia said. "I'm the first child. Though my mother was in Slytherin, though. My father was in Gryffindor."  
  
"So, you're a full-blooded witch?" Who else but Malfoy would ask such a question?  
  
Lisha didn't reply. Instead, she took the pitcher of pumpkin juice and poured it into her goblet. After a sip, she noticed everyone was hanging to hear her next words, so she spoke. "I have had a tutor the last few years, and I took an exam that Dumbledore suggested I take if I wanted to reenter Hogwarts. I passed the test, obviously, but I faltered in Potions. Is Professor Snape still the Potions master?"  
  
"That is correct," a voice spoke up behind them. Lisha turned to face the greasy-haired Potions teacher. He looked down at her over his hooked nose with black eyes that were the most unfriendly pair she had ever seen. She smiled politely.  
  
"I've missed your lessons, Professor. I'm sure my tutor has contacted you." She lowered her voice. "And my parents as well?"  
  
Severus Snape was not the one to smile, but his glare had become less intense. "Yes, he has, and so have your parents." He paused. "You have much catching up to do; Your teacher went much too slow with you. But my class will not falter on the account of one student. Remember that." He walked away before she gave him an answer.  
  
"Well," Malfoy said dourly, "I think he likes you." Crabbe and Goyle snickered silently as Lisha shook her head.


	3. Draco Malfoy and the Bloodstone: Chapter...

_Draco Malfoy_  
And the Bloodstone  
__ _ _ _ _By Ti'ana_

_Chapter Two_

The low rumble of thunder woke Draco out of a blissful rest He had a dream, he recalled, which he didn't want to wake from, but all the images were forgotten as he tried to recollect and was distracted by a flash of lightning. Already, the school year was going badly, and he hadn't even started his first class yet.  
  
It took him a moment to realize how early it was. He could hear the snoring of Crabbe and Goyle in the beds next to his. They were heavy sleepers, and the only thing capable of waking either of them was extreme hunger or Malfoy's voice yelling at them to put their rears in gear.  
  
He needed some time alone. Classes wouldn't start for three hours now, and there was no point in waking his friends if it he was able to get some "me-time" in there.  
  
Malfoy took out his schedule.. Unfortunately for him, Slytherin had wound up partnering with Gryffindor in many classes he was currently taking. Potions, Care for Magical Creatures (which almost got him killed the year before, or so he made it seem) and Divination, all three of which were that day. Potions this morning (all joy of joys), Care for Magical Creatures, then Divination. Tomorrow, Potions was first, followed by Herbology, then a History of Magic. According to his schedule, Potions occurred every day but Monday. Care for Magical Creatures was twice a week (Tuesdays and Fridays), Divination only on Tuesdays. Charms was Monday and Wednesday. No Defense Against the Dark Arts today. It was easily his best, and favorite, class. May as well get a head start; he took out his book of Dark Arts, and began reading, although everything he read was forgotten.  
  
He sighed. The thunderstorm was beginning to ebb, and the sun started to peak through the clouds. It was about eight o'clock now. This meant it was almost time to get ready for breakfast. Another thought crossed his mind, which made him feel uncomfortable. He would have to face Lisha in less than an hour. She had captivated the minds of his mindless friends, a task not even he could incur. Even the Bloody Baron and Professor Snape (of all people!) had taken a liking to her. Malfoy wouldn't allow himself to like her. There was something about that girl, Lisha, that bothered him so.  
  
A sickening thud stirred Malfoy's thoughts. "Ah... Jeez...."  
  
He turned around to see Goyle laying on the floor, clutching his head and whining. "I'm up! For cripe's sake I'm up!"  
  
"Good," Malfoy mumbled. "I didn't plan on waking you yet. We have to leave in twenty minutes. Breakfast starts in a half hour. I want to get downstairs first."  
  
"First?" Crabbe was rubbing sleep from his eyes. "First as opposed to what?"  
  
"Just first!" Malfoy realized the mistake he had made when he said that. All he wanted to do was get a seat away from that Lisha girl. Malfoy surprised himself with how much he despised a person, a full-blooded witch no less, in a time span of less than two full days. His only vexation in that time was Mudbloods, Muggle-lovers and witches and wizards with Muggle blood in them somewhere, usually from their parents. Draco Malfoy came from a long line of wizards and witches, and his blood wasn't tainted in the least by some non-magical person. Muggles were scum in his and his family's eyes.  
  
At least Malfoy had one thing to be glad about. They were the first people down at the Slytherin table. He saw Hermione, Ron, Harry and their friend Neville at the Gryffindor table, but he was in no mood to bother them.  
  
The food was already set on the table when they arrived. Crabbe and Goyle hovered over the scrambled eggs and buttered triangles of toast like vultures, as if waiting for Malfoy's permission to eat. He sat down, and they attacked the plates. Professor Snape entered the hall and quietly sat down, but not before throwing a nasty scowl in Harry Potter's direction. It was a well-known fact he hated Harry, which was unheard of in the magical world, besides He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Lord Voldemort, the one who tried to kill him.  
  
Within a few minutes, the hall was bustling with activity, but Lisha was no where in site. "Maybe she's sick," Crabbe offered, when Goyle asked where their new friend was. Malfoy just scowled.  
  
The Slytherin table hushed as Lisha, clad in her black school robe, slowly made her way over to the table. It was understandable that anyone would be tired the first day of school and move that lethargically, but it was slow movements not brought about because of weariness. Her steps were small, and eventually she sat. Malfoy sighed, relieved, when she sat on the opposite end of the table. He was slightly perturbed when she wouldn't acknowledge his unfriendly glare, or even look at him. She nodded a hello to Goyle, and then to Crabbe when he finished stuffing a forkful of eggs into his mouth. Lisha sat between Professor Snape and another student, Pansy Parkinson, who gave her a look and slid away from her a few inches. Malfoy simpered when he saw this. He soon realized his attention was drawn completely to Lisha, and he suddenly became riveted in his untouched breakfast.  
  
Goyle must have felt particularly upset by the aversion towards Lisha, for he stood and walked over, smiled and said hello, then sat. Malfoy watched angrily as the two began to converse like old friends. Both of them took out their programs, and apparently were comparing them. Malfoy had done that with the two of them last night, and obviously they had all the same classes together. He frowned, though, when he noted by their expressions that Lisha was in most of them as well. This was all happening too fast for him to take in.  
  
Breakfast ended. Goyle went back to Malfoy and Crabbe.  
  
"You know, we have an identical schedule to Lisha's! We thought that was odd, too. She was just telling me about her tutors. Remember Professor Lupin? He tutored her the summer before he taught at Hogwarts!"  
  
"Really," Malfoy grumbled. "We're in the same house, Goyle. C'mon, we're gonna be late for Potions."  
  
And they were. Snape frowned when the three entered the near-full dungeon-like room below the school. Only four seats remained in the cold "classroom," if you could even call it that, and one of the vacancies, of course, was next to Lisha. The three went to the seats in back of the room.  
  
"If I see you three coming late to class on a regular basis, it will be twenty points from Slytherin..." He paused for dramatic effect. "Each. And you know how much I hate having to take from my own House.  
  
"Now, if I may proceed. I was just explaining how you will be paired this year. We will be starting off the year with antidotes, and then to cures for the common curse."  
  
Malfoy had near forgotten they were in the same class as the Gryffindors, so he was surprised for a moment when he heard Hermione's annoying voice ask how they were to be paired.  
  
"In the old-fashioned Muggle way. Alphabetical order." The class groaned. "I cannot trust you to choose partners on your own. I am afraid Neville Longbottom" (the owner of the name nearly swallowed his tongue as Snape called him) "will do better without your disgustingly controlling manner over projects, Miss Granger. He will never learn if you do everything for him. Although, I doubt he will learn independently, or with any student in this class.  
  
"So when I call your name, you will sit in the first available seat. Everyone stand. Good. Millicent Bulstrode, you will sit in the first seat. Next to Bulstrode will be Vincent Crabbe. Seamus Finnigan, you'll sit over here with... "  
  
The list went on. "Neville Longbottom, you will sit here." Malfoy smirked. There was only one person between he and Neville, and that person was in Ravenclaw. But to his surprise, the seat next to him was taken. Oh well, he would probably be put next to Pansy Parkinson, another Slytherin who was almost as sharp and rude as he was. Because of this, the two were rumored to date (much to the delight of Pansy, and the disgust of Malfoy). He would be the next one they called...  
  
"Lisha Luralby and Draco Malfoy."  
  
"NOOO!" Malfoy literally exploded. "You can't do this, Professor Snape! Please, put me with Neville Longbottom, with Pansy Parkinson. PUT ME WITH HARRY POTTER, BUT FOR GOD'S SAKE NOT WITH THAT FREAK GIRL!"  
  
"Twenty points from Slytherin! And detention for a week if I hear you complain any further. NOW TAKE YOUR SEAT, MISTER MALFOY!"  
  
Lisha was already seated, and when Malfoy came over, she gave him a hurt expression. "I don't like you either, Draco Malfoy. No one in this godforsaken school likes me, and I know that. I would rather work with that klutz Longbottom than you, but there's nothing we can do but accept the current predicament. Now," her voice lowered even further, if possible, "I want this to be a pleasant year, no matter how much we dislike each other. Can you agree to that?"  
  
A certain pair of vulgar words overheard by Professor Snape took another ten points from Slytherin. This was certainly shaping up to be an excellent year, alright.  
  
***  
  
"You hold 'em like this." Hagrid, the Care for Magical Creatures teacher, was demonstrating how to handle a teekuu, a big fluff ball that seemed harmless. "Now, don't ferget to watch out for 'em nasty claws 'a there's. If you're annoyin' 'em enough, they'll lash out at ye."  
  
Malfoy rolled his eyes. He couldn't stand the class almost as much as he could the teacher. He and Hagrid always had it in for each other, especially after the incident last year with Buckbeak, a nasty hippogriff that nearly broke his arm. He was supposed to be executed, but by some odd twist of fate was rescued along with Sirius Black, accused murderer of twelve Muggles (as if that mattered) and "Wormtail," an old friend (and traitor) of Harry Potter's parents.  
  
"Now yer gonna be placed in pairs" (Malfoy's pale blue eyes darted to the silent Lisha, he would NOT be partnered with her again) "which you will choose yerselves. Yer gonna be carin' for one of these babies all term. Keep 'em healthy like ye would any pet'uv yers. They can be real darlin's some times." The teekuu in Hagrid's hand was nibbling his fingers. "See what I mean?"  
  
"What you mean," Malfoy called out, "is that having a furry, disgustingly cute creature biting your hands off is sweet. And if that's your definition of sweet, I refuse to take part in this."  
  
"You will do what I tell ye to do or that'll be ten points from yer house and I'll be givin' you extra assignments outside'a class. Now pick a partner yer gonna be workin' with for a long time. Go."  
  
Malfoy grabbed his closest friend: Crabbe. He half-expected Goyle to complain, but he was already off, choosing his partner. HER.  
  
Malfoy watched, enviously, as she smiled when Goyle came over. Right now, he would prefer his air-headed friend be working with Hermione, who still searched for a partner as Harry and Ron paired up. Hermione looked upset, but he overheard Hagrid tell her she could assist him.  
  
"It's kinda cute if you ask me." Crabbe scratched his teekuu under the chin, and it purred in contentment. "Wanna hold it?"  
  
Draco's repulsed expression answered the question.  
  
"Okay, if you don't wanna. We gotta care for this thing all year, and you're never gonna touch it?"  
  
"I"d prefer not to, thanks." The large brown pool-like eyes of the teekuu looked at him despondently. _Like Lisha's_, he thought. He glanced over at her. She was laughing; apparently the teekuu had found its way up her sleeve and was resting under the crook of her arm. A slight smile played across his lips, but was wiped away when he saw Goyle waving at him. Lisha looked over the crowd to see who her partner was waving at, and her laughter became a dull silence that seemed to echo over the field. She reached up her sleeve and pulled the teekuu out by the scruff.  
  
Malfoy roughly pulled the teekuu away from Crabbe. Surprised, the half-asleep creature squealed something awful and grabbed Malfoy's sleeve with its sharp claws. He waved his arm wildly, which caused the small fluff ball to latch on tighter. It let go, eventually, and sprinted down Malfoy's sleeve. He stifled a laugh as it brushed against his arm, then climbed his stomach, which tickled more than it hurt, despite the many claw marks he must have had by now, and shot out of the top of the robe, landing on Malfoy's head where it quickly made a nest and laid down.  
  
The class was howling with laughter. Ron Weasley was on the floor clutching his stomach, Harry almost strangling his as he snickered, Crabbe and Goyle hitting each other's arms as they pointed, and even Hagrid chuckling. Lisha, though, simply shook her head and stroked the animal sleeping on her arm.  
  
Crabbe and Malfoy's teekuu had fallen asleep already in the blonde mass of hair. "What am I supposed to do with this thing?"  
  
Hagrid, for once, answered Malfoy without hollering or correcting his actions. "Ne'er seen anything run like that. Best to leave 'em where he is. Teekuus don't like ta be bothered from their sleep, mind ye. 'Sides, don'tche feel special havin' a ball o' fur curled up on yer head?"  
  
Malfoy didn't answer. He never truly "liked" anything, but he had to admit, he was beginning to fancy these teekuu things. Much better they were than hippogriffs!  
  
He almost forgot the animal on his head until he started leaving back to the school for his next class. Hagrid didn't notice either until he was almost half way to the school. Malfoy apologized, which surprised Hagrid so much he offered to put the animal back for them.  
  
Back in the school, Malfoy found the Slytherin table where Crabbe and Goyle already sat. They were already chatting.  
  
"She said she used to have a pet teekuu, you know. D'ya know how big those things can _get_? Like, huge!" Goyle stretched his arms out to their full expansion, whacking Malfoy in the stomach. "Drac! Where were you? Didya hear about that new girl?"  
  
Rubbing his stomach, Malfoy slipped into an empty space between the two. Coolly, he shook his head. "What about the new girl?"  
  
"Lisha Luralby." Malfoy shuddered. "She really did come to this school! Remember, first day of Potions class, you turned her hair green because you didn't know the difference between green weely solution and green weely mixture?" Crabbe laughed as Goyle recounted the event. "And- and when you put the mixture in the pot with the boiling water it exploded all over some girl! That was her!"  
  
"No," Malfoy said quickly. "Don't remember."  
  
"Where is she, anyway?"  
  
Goyle shrugged. "Think she said she had to go to Snape. Anyway, we'd better hurry and eat, 'cause we got Divination next and we don't want to miss one prediction Trelawney has in store for us this year."  
  
Divination was uneventful. Professor Trelawney introduced them to Astrology, and according to her charts, "Someone in the class" (Malfoy noted her mournful glance at Harry Potter; he saw Ron stifled a laugh) will have passed into the next world by the end of this year." Professor Trelawney always predicted Harry was going to die, but none of her prognostications had been true. Unfortunately, for Malfoy that is.  
  
"Vincent," she said, as she hovered over the table Malfoy and his friends sat at, "According to your sign, the Pisces, and the current position of the constellation in the sky and the recent moon patterns, what do you think that means about the coming days?"  
  
Crabbe stuttered, but eventually cracked a smile. "I'm gonna die, aren't I?"  
  
She beamed. "I'm very glad to see you take the news so well. You will not die, don't worry. But I predict you will be gravely injured by mid-May. In store for you this week, I see nothing awful awaiting. Oh, and don't forget to do your Potions homework, or Professor Snape will lash out at you viscously by Thursday I predict."  
  
She stopped over Malfoy. She looked him over for a moment, and then smiled. "I see a bright and happy future for you this year at school. Yes– I see your first day back has already been rather joyous."  
  
Crabbe and Goyle snickered. Malfoy waited until she walked away to hit each of them on the sides of the head. It seemed a risky feat, because both of them were twice his size and to abuse them like that was one exploit. They were too loyal to Draco, blind faith of course because they were too stupid to know much of anything else.  
  
Professor Trelawney made a few more grim predictions before she decided to let everyone do their own work on their own charts. Five minutes before class ended, she gave them their first assignment.  
  
"I want you to plot out every day for the next month and what you think will happen." She tapped their book, _Unfogging the Future_. "This should help you with the position of the stars and phases of the moon. Make serious predictions, please." She eyed Ron Weasley, who was tapping Harry and clamping his hands around his neck. Both were laughing quietly. "This is a serious matter, class."  
  
"I predict I'm going to die," Draco mumbled on his way out of the class with Crabbe. Goyle stayed behind to speak with Professor Trelawney. Odd it seemed to both of them, as they knew just as well as Goyle did staying longer than he had to after class was way out of character. "Simple premonition. I mean, I _am_ going to die someday, so it isn't like I'm lying. One-hundred percent true."  
  
"I predict I'll be eating a nice, big helping of Cornish pastries in the next few minutes. Let's go down to the kitchen, I'm hungry again."


	4. Draco Malfoy and the Bloodstone: Chapter...

_Draco Malfoy_  
And the Bloodstone  
__ _ _ _ _By Ti'ana_

_Chapter Four_

Draco Malfoy held his glass of pumpkin juice tightly. Goyle hadn't come down to breakfast that morning, and now he could see him on the other side of the room, walking with Lisha. Neither of them was smiling, but were talking in what, even from his distance from them, hushed voices, and seemed to be in an intense conversation.  
  
"What is he up to?" Pansy Parkinson slid over next to Malfoy and rested her chin in her hand after everyone had congregated for dinner. "You don't think he ***likes that weird girl, do you?" She inched closer. "I mean, they just met Monday, didn't they?"  
  
"Huh?" Malfoy wasn't paying attention. Blood was pounding through his veins as he watched his own friend fraternizing with the enemy.  
  
"I was just saying it's odd, you know. I mean, it's obvious he likes her, and she must*** like him if she's hanging out with the guy so much. What do you think, Draco?"  
  
"I think I'm not hungry anymore." He stood and walked past the now-seated Goyle and Lisha. Sure, they were deep in conversation, but there was no way he liked her. It obviously wasn't flirtatious chatter, so what could it be?  
  
Malfoy's footsteps echoed down the staircase to the dungeon classroom of Potions. He could usually hear chattering voices, no matter how hushed magnified dozens of times over the large, empty room.  
  
"Who's there?" He recognized the voice of Professor Snape.  
  
"It's me, Professor. Draco Malfoy."  
  
"What are you doing here so early, Malfoy? Class doesn't start for another ten minutes."  
  
Quickly, Malfoy thought of an excuse. "I wanted to ask about this year's Quidditch team. Who's the captain this year, and when do we start."  
  
"Flint is still captain. Good Chaser, if you ask me, but even better Beater. He's already informed about your being the Seeker, I assume. Everyone in the school knows.  
  
"You didn't come here for a Quidditch pep talk, I believe." Was he really that transparent? "It's about that Luralby girl." Yep, clear as glass. "If I am right, then here is your answer. No, Malfoy. You'll find you will have to work with people you would rather never, ever associate with outside of your occupation. Like Potter, for example." He corrected himself quickly. "I mean, I'm sure you would be very glad to disassociate yourself with that self-centered celebrity, but you cannot. What you did to Lisha Luralby yesterday was very uncalled for. Rude, I might add, although I expect no less from you, Malfoy. I meant what I said yesterday. If you complain further, I will give you detention for a week and force you to clean the animal tanks with Hagrid."  
  
By the time Snape finished lecturing Malfoy, students began to pile into the classroom. Obediently, he found his seat and slumped down.  
  
Once everyone was present (including Lisha), Snape began on the first official lesson. "Everything you need is on the table. Using your knowledge from last year's class, I want you to create an awakening potion." He held up a small black box with a tiny hole barred off by silvery metal rods. "In each of these cages, you will find one Sleeping Yirdle, creatures who are in hibernation all year and are only wakened by hunger, for reproductive purposes" (some of the students snickered, "LONGBOTTOM! FIVE POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR!") "and an Awakening Potion. They are closely linked with Awakening Charms, but don't be fooled. Awakening Potions do more than wake up, they give energy. Give an Awakening Charm to a Yirdle and they'll fall right back to sleep after giving the one who bothered them a good bite on the hand. If the Awakening Potion is done correctly, you're Yirdle will be too full of energy to be grumpy, and you'll be safe."  
  
Snape turned in Harry's direction (who he hadn't heard say to Ron, "Maybe Snape could use one of those!") and continued. "Do it wrong, and we'll be sending you to Madam Pomfrey." He smiled, in a creepy sort of way. "Have fun."  
  
"Okay, what do we got here." Malfoy picked up one of the bottles and observed it. "Sleeping Powder? How is that going to get this thing up?"  
  
"With this." Lisha picked up a flask filled with a clear, thick liquid. "It's an Inversion solution."  
  
"How do you know that?"  
  
Rolling her eyes, she turned the bottle around. "InvrSol. Just a bunch of lazy teachers who don't want to spell out the whole thing. It's in the Potions book. Then again, I don't expect you to know that. Or anything, really."  
  
"Just give me the bottle. I'll mix it." He reached over to pull the flask away.  
  
"You have no clue how to do this, do you Malfoy? If you mix a powder and a solution without some sort of means of energy, do you know what's going to happen?"  
  
"No, but I assume you'll tell me."  
  
Lisha shook her head. "I'm not. If you don't want to hear how, by all means make your mixture and test it on the yirdle. But don't expect me to stick around when the nurse is magicking your finger back on."  
  
"Well then, Miss Smarty, why don't you make it?" Malfoy pushed all the materials from his side of the desk to hers, along with the black box containing the yirdle.  
  
"This is a group effort, Malfoy. I know you're probably unfamiliar with the term 'cooperation,' but that is no excuse. Now," she added, putting an empty crystal beaker in front of him, "you will pour the Inversion solution and I'll add the powder. Agreed?"  
  
Malfoy stifled a laugh. Cooperation? Agreement? "Fine. Only so we don't wind up failing. On one condition. I add the magic."  
  
Lisha looked as if she was about to disagree, but stopped herself and nodded.  
  
"Right. On the count of three. One... two... three!" Malfoy began pouring the solution as Lisha dropped the powder in. There was no, apparently, chemical reaction.  
  
"Okay, now use your wand."  
  
"What am I supposed to do?"  
  
"Send orange sparks into it, and stir."  
  
Malfoy nodded. He didn't enjoy the fact he was following orders from this girl, but he had no choice unless he wanted to spend the afternoon with Madam Pomfrey. He pointed his wand into the cauldron, but thought for a moment. Accidents were bound to happen, he was sure Snape expected it. He lifted the tip of the want ever-so-slightly, and shot.  
  
Everything happened too fast for him. Lisha's robe caught on fire as the sparks grazed her arm, and they hit the yirdle's cage. Although the creature, which looked like a cross between a rock and a mad teekuu, was asleep, it caused enough damage by rolling onto Malfoy's foot. The yirdle must have weighed at least twenty pounds, a lot more than it seemed to when he slid the box across the table, for he felt the top of his foot crush beneath its weight.  
  
Lisha was being aided by Hermione, who shot a stream of water using her want. The fire was extinguished, but the water kept spraying, and some landed in the inverted sleeping powder solution. The beaker exploded, sending shards of glass around the room. Someone must have been hit, because a sharp cry of pain rang out through the dungeon room.  
  
"WHAT'S GOING ON?!" Professor Snape rushed over to Malfoy and Lisha's table. The whole scene had unfolded, in total, less than twenty seconds.  
  
Lisha's robe was singed badly. Her entire left arm was red with burns, and exposed because the cloth had disintegrated into ashes. Malfoy lay on the floor, clutching his broken foot. The scene spoke for itself.  
  
"Potter! Weasley! Take these two to Madam Pomfrey."  
  
"I can go myself, Professor," Malfoy mumbled. No, he wouldn't sink so low as to have Harry or Ron carry him off to the hospital wing. He couldn't decide which he despised more.  
  
"Take them, now." Snape whipped the bottom half of his robe around, and stormed to the front of the room.  
  
Harry and Ron exchanged glances, but knew better than to go against Professor Snape's command. Each of them grabbed one of Malfoy's arms and lifted him from the floor. Lisha's eyes were brimming with tears as she pulled what remained of the arm on her robe away from her burnt shoulder. She began to follow.  
  
"Luralby," Professor Snape said coolly. Malfoy craned his neck around to see what was going on. "I want to see you in my office after school today."  
  
Malfoy saw her nod, and he swallowed. What was that about? _I'm really in trouble_, he thought.  
  
Once they were outside the classroom, Ron and Harry tightened their grips on his arms.  
  
"Not so rough," he said.  
  
Harry grinned at Ron, who said, "Never thought we'd have Draco Malfoy begging for mercy, hey Harry?"  
  
"Nope," he answered simply. "Never. Shall we take advantage of the situation?"  
  
"Two weakened Slytherins versus two Gryffindors in perfect health. I think the odds are pretty much on our side."  
  
So for the rest of the trip to the hospital wing, Malfoy was practically dragged by the two Gryffindors pulling his arms faster than he could hop. It was the most humiliating experience he had ever been in. This year, that is. Of course, the two paid no heed to Lisha, who had never acted against them, or anyone at that.  
  
"So what do we have here?" Madam Pomfrey led Malfoy over to a bed and took off the shoe on his broken foot.  
  
"Yirdle fell on it," Harry answered. "Snape told us to bring them to you."  
  
"Us?" She turned to face the pale Lisha. Her face became whiter than it had been in class. She wasn't bleeding much, but it seemed as if she had lost most of the blood in her body. Madam Pomfrey did not seem to worried about that factor, and sat her down in a chair on the other side of the room Malfoy was in.  
  
"It'll be okay, Miss Luralby. Simple burns, nothing to worry about. We'll magic it right back to perfect health." She held up a bottle of a thick red liquid and quickly began to work on the burns.  
  
"It should take a day or two before the burns are completely gone, but this should also relieve most of the pain. As for you, Mister Malfoy," she turned to Draco. "This may be a little more painful for you. It seems the yirdle has crush most of the bones in your foot rather than break them. They're not all that heavy, but after falling off a table as high as the one in your class, it can do considerable damage. The bones should heal completely, but this is a very painful process. Now, hold still."  
  
The empty halls of the hospital wing at Hogwarts echoed loudly Malfoy's scream as Madam Pomfrey worked.

***

"I heard you screamed." Goyle was scribbling on his Astrology chart for Professor Trelawney's class.  
  
"Where'd you hear that from?" Draco tossed a chocolate frog at Goyle's head. His foot was bandaged thickly, but there was no more fear of broken bones. That had been taken care of by the Skele-Gro and Repair. The pain, though, was still ominous. Even the mention of it made the foot throb.  
  
"Somewhere," Goyle answered simply. "I heard it was pretty loud, it could have been anyone."  
  
"The hospital wing was empty!" Malfoy sat up quickly, rising from his pillow and banging his fist against the side of the bed. "_She_ told you didn't she?! I don't believe you, Goyle! You're a traitor!" His voice rose to a shrill holler. "Stay away from her! It's her fault I'm in trouble now. Snape told her to see him after school, and I'm going to be expelled. Expelled!"  
  
"Calm down, Malfoy," Crabbe spoke up. "If they were gonna expel you they would've sent you an owl already, huh? And it was an accident. You didn't _mean_ to set her robe on fire."  
  
"That's a lie, and you know it Crabbe!"  
  
Malfoy's jaw dropped. "You fancy that girl, don't you Goyle?" When he didn't respond, Draco exploded. "You do! I don't believe it! You're supposed to be my friend."  
  
"I ***am your friend, Malfoy! Friend, bodyguard and blind follower." Goyle's normally red face had never looked redder before. His two friends just goggled. They had never heard Vincent Crabbe use such defiance and sound so-- sharp-witted.  
  
"Just drop it," Crabbe begged.  
  
"I'm done. I won't say anymore." Goyle remained true to his word. He said nothing as he continued to fill in his star chart.  
  
Draco was too proud to apologize. He would just have to wait this one out, until Goyle gave in. Neither of them realized how long that may take, nor did they care much anymore.


	5. Draco Malfoy and the Bloodstone: Chapter...

_Draco Malfoy_  
And the Bloodstone  
__ _ _ _ _By Ti'ana_

__

_Chapter Five_

"Welcome to your third day back at Hogwarts, class." A tall man in a black cape with paper-white skin stood at the front of the near-empty room. "I am your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Blodsucan."

Draco glanced around the classroom. He was seated next to Crabbe, but Goyle preferred to sit in the back-- next to his new familiar. How he found a friend in Lisha Luralby was beyond Malfoy's comprehension. The fact he ***fancied her was even worse!

His eyes fell on Lisha. He had never seen a person look as scared as she did right now. Her brown eyes were wide and attentive, but she was sunk deep in her chair.

Professor Blodsucan seemed to have noticed this. The expression on his face, though, was the oddest Malfoy had ever observed. It was a mixture of surprise, sympathy and maliciousness. 

"Your name, Miss?" He hovered over her end of the desk like a vulture, looking down at her over his beak-like nose with black, bead-like eyes.

It took her a while to respond. When she did, her voice shook. "Lisha Luralby, Professor."

"Ah, yes, yes." He pinched his short beard with two finders. Blodsucan's eyes seemed to pierce into her very soul, even from where Draco was seated he could feel his gaze on someone else.

"Allow me to continue. This is the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. This year, we will be focusing on how to protect yourself against malevolent spirits, powers and people, both living, nonliving and undead."

"Nonliving?" A Hufflepuff girl raised her hand. "You mean deceased? Aren't nonliving and undead the same thing?"

Professor Blodsucan smiled. "No, the nonliving. Creatures of the night. Vampires, you might say, are an example, but there are many species like them. Many," he continued, as if it were a lesson, "are Animagus, ones who can transform into other creatures. Almost ninety percent are unregistered, and therefore illegally possessing a power.

"We will focus more on vampires and the nonliving in the weeks to come. It is my personal favorite topic, and I'm sure you too will find it interesting. Although it is very rare you will ever come in contact with one of these creatures, you should know how to destroy them when-- if you do. They must be destroyed on the spot, or they will be very difficult to terminate later on."

If she appeared scared before class began, Lisha was petrified by the time Defense Against the Dark Arts had ended. It seemed Professor Blodsucan had that effect on many students. The same Hufflepuff girl who had asked him about the nonliving seemed to be in a trance when she left the room. When a friend tapped her on the shoulder, she jumped high in the air and shrieked.

"Must be a girl thing," Crabbe mumbled. "Hey! Quidditch starts soon. Still gonna be Seeker?"

"Of course," Draco answered, matter-of-factly. "I'm the best Seeker Slytherin has. Sad Montague quit the game after last years loss. Best Chaser and team leader we had. We're gonna need another Chaser to take his place. Why don't we convince Pansy Parkinson to play?" They both laughed. She was the biggest girly-girl in Slytherin. Although she followed Quidditch like every other witch and wizard, she had no dream of ever playing on a team.

"First practice is next Saturday. Me an' Goyle are still gonna go watch."

"You talked to him?"

Crabbe nodded. "Says we got an interesting new Chaser. Won't say who, though. First guess was Pansy. That'd be pretty interesting, alright."

"Goyle's playing Keeper this year, I heard. Is it true?"

"Yep! I mean, I was gonna, but I don't have enough time to practice and all."

Draco grimaced. Goyle being on the team meant he'd have to spend time and cooperate with him. He didn't want to be in this fight with a (huge) former friend and be forced to work with him, so Draco decided to reconcile before the first practice.

"Charms is next," Crabbe continued. "Maybe we'll learn a Mess-Up-Potter-On-His-Broom Charm. That one'll come in handy during a match!"

Charms remained the usual, uneventful class Malfoy and Crabbe remembered it to be. They didn't learn a Mess-Up-Potter-On-His-Broom Charm, but the Faltering Charm they learned might have helped dissuade Harry from even playing Quidditch at all.

Seated at the lunch table, hundreds of owls came swarming in to deliver packages and letters. Malfoy's own owl, an eagle owl measuring almost two feet long, dropped a small package on the table in front of him.

"Hello, Azrael." The owl hooted and landed on Draco's shoulder. He offered a piece of bread to the oversized bird, who hooted again and snapped at the food.

"Whatcha got?"

"The usual." Draco opened the package, filled to the brim with sweets: cookies, small cakes, sugar candies and chocolate frogs. He offered some to Crabbe, who graciously accepted by digging his hand into the box, emerging with half of the sugary contents.

Azrael flew off to the owlery with the other dozens of other owls. "So, Quidditch practice starts the Saturday coming up?"

"No, nex' Sa'urday." Crabbe struggled to speak while fighting to get two cakes down at once. Finally, he swallowed. "Flint wants to start early. Good strategy guy. Say, what broom'll you be using?"

"My Nimbus," Draco answered simply. "Two-thousand and two. Almost as good as the Firebolt, but not as expensive. Very agile."

"We'll win the cup this year," Crabbe encouraged. "Just catch the Snitch and we'll win!"

"I will. I mean, we will. Potter's just a pushover. Sure he's a good Seeker-- not as good as I am, but Gryffindor didn't win until last year, even though Potter never lost a game. 'Cept that one to Diggory, that was priceless!"

Crabbe looked at his schedule. "Potions next. Plan on setting another robe on fire?"

Draco struggled to keep his hand out of the pocket holding his wand.

***

Lisha still looked upset in Potions class as she had during the period of Defense Against the Dark Arts. She ignored Draco completely while everyone worked individually on creating a powerful reviving and rejuvenating potion. They each tested it on a Sleeping Yirdle in the hopes it would wake up happily, and everyone would leave the class with all the fingers they came in with.

Professor Snape watched closely as Lisha and Draco worked. Finally, he spoke up.

"Miss Luralby, I want to see you after class." Then he was gone.

Had Malfoy not noticed the burn marks still on his partner's arm, he may have asked what that was about. His foot began to throb thinking about yesterday's incident, even though his bones were completely healed.

He turned to see where Goyle was sitting.

"E-excuse me," a small voice asked. He turned to face Neville Longbottom. His eyes were wide and he began to point to an empty glass bottle. "Can... can I use that?"

Draco shook his head, but Lisha pushed it over to him. "We don't need it."

Neville smiled nervously, thanked her, and ran back to his table.

"What'd you do that for? That kid's in Gryffindor, Slytherins aren't supposed to take kindly to _Gryffindors_."

"He didn't do anything to make me not like him," Lisha answered simply. "Besides, that's stereotypical. Not all Slytherins are nasty wretches. Although, if you were the only student in Slytherin spoken to by an outsider, I can see why one would think so."

Malfoy scoffed. "You should be in Hufflepuff with the rest of the thickheaded dimwits."

"There you go, you're stereotyping again. Honestly, Malfoy, I wouldn't be surprised if you told me Hogwarts should be filled with pureblooded wizards and witches, and the rest should be fed to one of Hagrid's mangy animals."

He smiled balefully. "You said it, not me."

Professor Snape dismissed the class. The school day was over. Malfoy stood to leave, but Lisha continued speaking, even after Crabbe and Goyle walked over to Malfoy.

"What's wrong with Mudbloods?"

"The same thing that's wrong with Muggle-lovers. Too preoccupied with non-magical folk to know what's going on in the magical world. Muggle-lovers like Arthur Weasley shouldn't be a part of our community, much less the Ministry of Magic. A pure blood like yourself should know better."

"You said it," she mocked. "Not me."


	6. Draco Malfoy and the Bloodstone: Chapter...

_Draco Malfoy_  
And the Bloodstone  
__ _ _ _ _By Ti'ana_

__

_Chapter Six_

__

The week dragged on until Saturday finally came. The Slytherin Quidditch team spent most of the day bragging over new brooms they received over the summer, boasted about how they were going to cream the Gryffindor team and discussed new strategies they learned from the Quidditch World Cup held that summer just before school started. Still, there was no sign of the new Chaser.

Malfoy spent most of the day admiring his own Nimbus Two-Thousand and Two. It was an impressive piece of work: it shimmered in the light, had a nice, smooth surface. This version of the Nimbus was rumored to move with such ease the rider needn't do anything but will the broom this way and that. The only problem was he had never tried it out.

The Ravenclaw team was practicing on the Quidditch field, so an advisor would be present. As long as he stayed out of their way, Draco could fly his broom without worrying.

On his way out of the entrance hall, he saw Goyle walking in with Lisha. He was carrying several brooms in one arm, and upon seeing Draco, the other went around Lisha's shoulder. He smiled, almost pleasantly Lisha didn't seem thrilled, though not too upset. Malfoy's face was taken over by a look of complete disgust, and he quickly made his way out to the Quidditch field, carrying his Nimbus.

Out on the field filled with the Ravenclaws, Malfoy mounted his broom after finding a suitable spot for flying and kicked off the ground. The sensation of flying again made Malfoy happier than he had been in a long time.

The rumors about the Nimbus 2002 were all right. Just by willing the broom to go this way and that, he flew there faster than any other broom he had owned. Up in the air above the practicing Quidditch team, he looked down to the ground below. The Nimbus stayed completely still in the air, not even shifting in the high winds.

Davies, the Ravenclaw captain, started yelling at Malfoy when their Seeker, a fifth year named Cho Chang, haughtily zipped past him (on her Comet Two Sixty, in no comparison to the Nimbus Two-Thousand and Two). She laughed when Malfoy was sent to the other end of the Quidditch field.

After a few more trips back and forth above the field (when he had almost been hit by a stray Bludger, obviously a deliberate attack on him), Draco decided to call it quits. He finished off with a grand finale of spiraling down at high speed and stopping short just before reaching the ground. Several Ravenclaws booed and hissed at his impressive display, but he simply bowed with a smirk.

"Try that without breaking your neck, Pigeonclaws!"

"Come over here and say that, Malfoy!" Davies zipped down twenty feet from where Draco was standing.

"Boys!" Madam Hooch, who stood in the middle of the field, came rushing over. "Mister Malfoy, go back to the school. Mister Davies, please pay attention to your Quidditch practice! I don't want to send students to Madam Pomfrey. She has other things to do than tend to problems other than broken noses gained by a pair of boys' fight. Oh, and by the way, how is your foot?"

"Yes, how is your foot?" One of the Ravenclaw Chasers who landed on the ground behind Madam Hooch laughed out loud, and began hopping like an idiot on one foot. Malfoy was not impressed, nor was Madam Hooch.

"Well enough to kick a smart-aleck pigeon and break their–"

"That will be enough, Draco. Return to the Slytherin house, your practice is tomorrow."

Davies wasn't finished, though. He jumped off the broom and stalked after Malfoy.

"I don't like being pushed like that, Malfoy. You'll do well to stay away from _our_ practice field. Ravenclaw's gonna kick some major Slytherin-- hey, is that a _Nimbus_? Ha! That wood splinter's nothing compared to my new Lightning Eight-Seventy. Wouldn't it be unfortunate if it combusted in the air? I wouldn't be surprised."

They were halfway to the door to Hogwarts by now. Draco pretended not to hear Davies.

"What's the matter? Don't like to be instigated, do you Malfoy? Don't like it when someone beats you at your own game, do you? At least my team has a captain that hasn't been left behind three times! Flint's so dumb he can't even transfigure an ice cube into water! It must show; look at his Seeker."

That did it. Draco grabbed his wand from his pocket and pointed it at Davies. "You'll pay for that, you filthy pigeon foot!" A stream of green light shot out from the end of his wand and hit Davies square in the stomach.

Before he could see what happened, Malfoy sprinted into the building. Rumors finally came to him that Davies was spewing up slugs until dinner.

Draco ran into Davies on his way to the entrance of the Slytherin house.

"You better watch your back, Malfoy. You're family's got a string of dirty blood in 'em, and you've got the same traits as your washout father."

"Oh, come now Davies. What did your father do? Groundskeeper? Does he sweep up the Hogwarts building with your Lightning whatever-it's-called with Hagrid?"

Both of them stepped back when Pansy Parkinson paraded down the hall. She flipped her hair, which hit Davies, and smiled at Draco. She proceeded to the stone wall, muttered a password, and the wall opened to reveal a hidden doorway.  
Davies turned back to Draco. "All of you Slytherins had better watch out." He hiccuped, dropping a slug on the floor, and stormed out of the hallway. Malfoy laughed, and continued on his way to the Slytherin tower. He needed all the rest he could conserve for tomorrow's practice.

***

Marcus Flint was already on the field when Malfoy arrived with his Nimbus 2002. He gaped in amazement at Flint's new Firebolt.

"Can I try it?"

Flint laughed. "Yeah right! Do you know how much this thing cost? Half of my life's savings _plus_ who knows how many Galleons from my parents! Besides, your dad's rich, why didn't you get a Firebolt?"

"He wouldn't get me one," Draco pouted. "He said I can't get one until my birthday because I accidentally blew up a report he was writing over the summer when he told me I wouldn't be able to go to the Quidditch World Cup unless I told my mom I was sorry I set her dress on fire."

"Man, that was one interesting summer! You went to the World Cup though."

"Well, I told my mother I was sorry!" Both boys laughed. 

Flint stopped. "I heard the Potter kid's got a Firebolt, too."

"Please," Malfoy sneered. "You against Harry Potter. 'Sides, where could he have gotten a Firebolt? Obviously not from his parents."

"I'm not the one I'm worried about. Potter's beaten us by catching the Snitch many more times than I care for, with_out_ a Firebolt! I mean, he beat you with his Nimbus Two-Thousand!"

"As flashy as the Firebolt may be," Malfoy suggested, "Nimbus Two-Thousand and Two was made afterwards. Whatever faults the Firebolt's got, this Nimbus doesn't. It's got better agility, I heard, than the ol' Firefly."

"They came out with a Firefly?" Goyle was dragging his broom over to Flint.

"No, dimwit. It was an insult to the... oh never mind." He scanned the crowd of Slytherins making their way to the captain. "Oh, no." Draco whirled around and ducked behind Flint.

"What's up, little guy?" Flint snickered, as did Goyle and Warrington, another Chaser. Malfoy's complexion flushed ever-so-slightly on his pale cheeks.

He pointed behind his head with a thumb. "Why is _she_ here?"

"Pansy? Reckon she came to see you practice, Malfoy!"

"You mean she's here too?! How am I supposed to concentrate when I've got two of my least favorite people in the world?"

"Well," Goyle piped in, "Two out of how many? Let's see, there's the Muggles, the Mudbloods, the Muggle-lovers, Harry Potter, Hagrid, Trelawney, Flitwick..."

"Stuff it lame brain. Why is Luralby here?"

Flint's face became serious. "She's here? Oh, good." He waved a hand in the air and shouted, "Hey, Luralby!"

Lisha peered over at Marcus Flint from behind her thick hood. A smile flickered, for a brief second, on her lips, and she walked over in her slow manner.

"Hello, Flint," she said, in a quiet but audible voice. "Goyle, Warrington. Ah, and there's the star of the team cowering behind the captain. What a situation!" She stepped around Flint.

Draco stood defiantly. "What are you doing here?"

Goyle grinned. "Didn't Vinny tell you?"

"Vinny?"

"Crabbe's first name is Vincent... _dimwit_." Malfoy clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, but held his tongue. "Anyway, I told him we had a new Chaser." He pulled Lisha over, an arm around her neck. She looked as if she was about to choke.

"Well," Flint interrupted, "let's get practicing! First match is in less than three months, and we don't have the field every day you know! We need a win to celebrate a Merry Christmas. And trust me," his voice lowered dramatically, "it will not be a happy one if we don't kick some Gryffindor butt!"

"Uh, Flint? Hufflepuff is our first victory to worry about."

"Hufflepuff, Shmufflepuff, all I'm worried about is showing Potter we can beat his team!"

Malfoy blinked. "Why Potter? I mean, I would like to Gryffindor more'n anyone, just to show Harry Potter he's not the only celebrity in this school."

"Didn't you hear?" Derrick was wrapping a piece of tape around a crack in his broom, which was fixed instantly, and the tape disappeared. "Potter's the new Gryffindor captain."

"No way!" Draco tightened his grip on his Nimbus. "We gotta beat 'em! All right, everyone, mount your brooms! We're gonna train harder than we have these past four years Potter's been playing! Let's move, move, MOVE!"  
Flint gave Malfoy a small reminder that _he_ was still captain, but repeated the orders anyway. He kicked off the ground and rose in the air several feet. "All right, Bole and Derrick, take a Bludger and practice on the east end of the field. And _try_ not to hit it over by the other players!"

The two boys nodded. Bole took one of the Bludgers from a box, and he and Derrick Flint continued. "Warrington, Luralby, grab a Quaffle and let's go to the west end. Goyle, you too. You'll act as Keeper against us. Malfoy, you'll stay here with the Snitch. And don't lose it," he warned. "We've only got this one to practice with."

Malfoy clicked his tongue and found the black case containing the Snitch. He left the box opened. He kicked off the ground seven feet or so, and pointed to Flint. "Gotcha."

The wings of the Snitch wriggled and writhed in Malfoy's grasp. It eventually got away, and he glanced around the rest of the field to give the Snitch a head start. He watched Bole and Derrick hitting a Bludger around with their clubs. At one point, it zipped past Derrick's head within inches of hitting his nose, but surprised, he fell off the broom, hanging onto the handle. Bole assisted him in getting back on, but the Bludger was gone.

"Oy, Flint!" Derrick waved his arms in the air, calling loudly. "Stray Bludger!"

Flint looked annoyed when he missed the Quaffle, but when he realized what happened, he widened his eyes and zipped over to the Beaters. "Where'd it go?"

"We dunno, it disappeared."

"_There_!" Lisha pointed to the center of the Quidditch field, where Draco was. It took him a second to realize she was referring to the Bludger zipping up next to him.

"Whoa!" Draco dove down on his boom as fast as he could to the ground. On the way down, a glittering light caught his eye. The Snitch.

Swerving away from the Bludger, Draco flew as fast as he could to the small, winged Snitch and stuck out his hand. He estimated where it would hit, and adjusted the position of the broom to suit it. Thankfully, his prediction was correct, and the Golden Snitch slapped into his hand. While he closed his fingers around its struggling wings, he noticed he was only several feet from the ground, and pulled back hard on the broom. The sudden movement caused him to be flung backwards, and land on the ground.

Flint rode up next to him. "Nice fall, Seek!"

Malfoy groaned and held up his hand. "I caught it, didn't I?"

"Yeah, just don't do a Potter and wind up swallowing it, all right? Snitches are really expensive, and I don't think any Seeker's gonna wanna use it after it's been digested. You know, all-"

"ALL RIGHT!" half the team yelled. Bole and Derrick were still after the stray Bludger, now that one of them had been captured and safely returned to its box.

"We really don't wanna hear it." Malfoy sat up and handed the Snitch over to Flint.

"Okay, okay. Hey guys, got the Bludger all right?" Once Flint had seen Bole and Derrick give him the thumbs-up from the other end of the field, where the box was, he looked at the other Chasers. "And the Quaffle?"

"Got it." Lisha held up the red ball and passed it to Warrington, who went to put it away.

"Goyle, put the Snitch in its box," Flint ordered. The younger, but much larger boy grabbed the struggling Snitch by the wings. If it could, it would have shrieked by now with all the handling it had been receiving.

"I'm glad I got you two alone," Flint said once Goyle had left. He looked back and forth between Lisha and Malfoy, who was still on the ground. "Snape asked me to speak to you both because we see how much animosity you have towards each other."

Draco glared hatefully at Lisha. He himself didn't understand why there was so much hostility between the two of them, but it didn't matter. He couldn't stand being on the same Quidditch field as her, much less the same school. She seemed to feel the same way, although she was more mature, more discrete about it.

"We're worried," Flint continued, "that it may affect out game. And you know how much Snape's been flaming since you lost all those points on the first day. You know, we're already fifty points down. Thankfully, Hufflepuff has a lot of dimwits, so they're always losing points for being dumb. Gryffindor has Potter and Weasley, and they're _always_ breaking some school rule. It's Ravenclaw we have to watch for. They hardly ever lose points for doing something wrong. Now," he paused to inhale deeply. "I want you two to kiss and make up." The thought turned both of them green. "Just shake hands, all right?"

Draco thought briefly about spitting in his hand, but then changed his mind. Lisha muttered something unintelligible, smiled, and extended her hand. Draco took it gingerly, and shook.

"There, now that wasn't too difficult, was it?" Flint almost smiled. "Let's go, they're already bringing the stuff in." He motioned for Lisha to go, and she did so. Flint remained close behind her.

Draco sat on the ground for a moment. Lisha had smiled at him. No one had ever really _smiled_ at him, like that anyway. It seemed so friendly, so caring... No, that was too mushy. But maybe there was a chance the two could become friends.

Half-grinning himself, he looked down at the hand Lisha had shook of his. The skin had turned completely green, and small sprouts were starting to grow from his fingers.

Perhaps he was wrong...


	7. Draco Malfoy and the Bloodstone: Chapter...

_Draco Malfoy_  
And the Bloodstone  
__ _ _ _ _By Ti'ana_

_Chapter Seven_

__

Halloween was one of the biggest events at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Everybody got into the spirit of things, except for perhaps the school's poltergeist, Peeves. He acted no different than usual, but then again he was always acting up.

Until Halloween, Draco Malfoy hadn't been bothered by him all year.

The loud, high squeak of a party favor woke him from his sleep.

"Must wake up, boy!" Peeves was hovering above Malfoy's head upside-down. He was wearing an orange party hat and a green twirly tie.

"Uggh..." Draco sat up. "Don't you have some other houses to bother?"

Peeves seemed to think about this for a moment. "Yes! But I am here now."

"Someone get the Bloody Baron," Draco grumbled.

Peeves beamed. "The Bloody Baron is helping Sir Not-so-headless Nick with his two-hundredth-and-something Deathday party. Nick don't seemed to pleased, but I am! I have the chance to bother all of the Slytherin house!"

"Peeves," a deep, broken voice croaked from behind Malfoy's bed curtain. "Get back to work."

Maybe it was some of the poltergeist's humor mixed with his fear of the Bloody Baron that made all of his color drip away out through his feet until he was as white and transparent as any other ghost. No questions asked, Peeves disappeared quickly.

The curtain opened. "I'll keep that one in mind the next time Peeves finds his way into the Slytherin common room. Rise and shine, pretty boy." Goyle opened Malfoy's drape until his whole bed was exposed. "Breakfast is in ten minutes."

"Bring me back a pumpkin cake." Malfoy hugged his pillow and pulled the blanket back over his head.

"Ooh, no you don't!" Crabbe jumped on Draco; obviously that wasn't his intention, because he fell off when Draco cried from underneath the sheets.

"I'm getting up!"

Fifteen minutes later, Draco and his cronies were down at the breakfast table. Obviously, Gregory Goyle had been lying, because half the school was missing. Of course he admitted to it; Draco could have guess he simply wanted to get to the food before anyone else.

The hall was decked in orange and black ribbons, balloons and tabletop decorations. Someone had made the mistake of letting the live bats out early, because they zipped around the hall as everyone struggled to eat their breakfast. One small bat dug its claws into Goyle's pumpkin pancake and tried to pull it away. He slapped it off, and a swarm of the black critters attacked his hair, pulling out several strands (but not really inflicting much damage).

There were no classes that day, so after breakfast, the students were allowed to do what they wanted until they were called back into the Hall.

That afternoon was the official Halloween party. Whoever let the bats out early before had rounded a hundred or so of them up and had them in large cages around the school. Dumbledore had been working on the decorations all day after breakfast, after someone had bewitched several of the streamers to act as snakes. They pulled themselves off the ceiling and were attacking people left and right, biting their robes. Several students reported to Madam Pomfrey for bites and bruises.

Rather than sitting with Malfoy and Crabbe, Goyle walked to the other end of the table.

"What are you doing?" Of course, Draco needn't have asked where Goyle was going. To sit with Lisha, of course. Over the past two months, the two of them had become closer and closer while Draco's relationship with her only became worse. Even so, they had learned to respect each other: Stay away from me and I won't turn you entirely green as I had planned. Fine, don't bother me and I won't set your new robes on fire. Deal.

Albus Dumbledore stood in the middle of the hall and raised his goblet to the air, asking for silence.

"Usually I would give a brief speech about Halloween, but this year, all I will say is this: don't let any of the bats out, please. Professor Blodsucan has helped us bewitch some of them to seem evil, but when someone let them loose this morning..." (his gaze fell on Fred and George Weasley, each of them laughing to themselves, with a twinkle in his bright eyes) "we couldn't tell one from the other. If you see a vicious, bloodsucking creature, contact Professor Blodsucan or myself. If it happens to gnaw off a finger or two, see Madam Pomfrey. Enjoy dinner!"

Dinner itself lasted only a half hour. Despite all the food there was (pumpkin cake, pumpkin pie, pumpkin pudding, apple butter and pumpkin bread, orange fruits which no one could identify but seemed to be addicted to, purée of squash, carrot and raison salad, plus mounds and mounds of other foods), it was finished almost as soon as it was placed on the table.

Rather than moving into the common rooms afterwards, the school remained in the dining hall. Goyle and Lisha moved to the end of the table Crabbe and Draco were sitting on. Draco sipped from his half-filled goblet of pumpkin juice resentfully when they sat. Lisha seemed pleased with his abhorrence.

"Hey, Malfoy, wanna play a game of four-way chess with us?" Crabbe was standing behind Goyle and Lisha, his old chess set raised high enough so Draco could see it.

"No thanks, I'll pass." He was still bitter over the sprout charm incident, and stuck to his vow of avoiding Lisha.

"I left mine up in the Slytherin tower. Sorry guys, I'll just watch."

"Sure you don't want to use mine, Lish?" Goyle displayed his moving chessmen. His Queen was whacking a pawn over the head with her staff.

"Er... I don't think they're used to me. You go ahead, Gregory." The Queen yelled something at Lisha in another language. It sounded like French.

"My dad got 'em when he went on a trip for the Ministry of Magic. They understand me, and I'll be damned if I catch a word of what they say. But at least I can win with 'em!"

Crabbe presented his intricately carved chessmen to Goyle. The pieces eyed each other, and the game began. Lisha urged Goyle on. His Queen yelled something apparently contradictory to Lisha's advice, and pointed to an empty space four squares in front of her, and said something which sounded like "sheckmet."

"She's right." Hermione craned her neck over Goyle's shoulder. "Automatic checkmate. Vincent already has you on check."

"Who asked for your opinion, Mudblood?" Draco clutched his goblet of pumpkin juice in both hands.

Hermione's lip quivered. "Mudblood or not, I could still have your head in a wizards' duel!" She stormed off, leaving Draco, Crabbe and Goyle bursting with laughter. Lisha fumed.

"She's right, you know. Hermione may be a no-good Gryffindor, but she could take all three of you on at once!" Goyle, of course, was the first to run off to apologize to Hermione. Draco almost started laughing again. Lisha had Goyle wrapped around her finger.

Crabbe hesitated, but went after Goyle. Draco couldn't find and explanation to that one. He turned to Lisha. "I don't know what you've done to my friends, but I want them back. You've got them hypnotized, haven't you? You've got those powers Professor Blodsucan's always warning us about. The evil powers of the nonliving!"

Her face turned bright red in anger. "I don't need hypnotic powers to help your 'friends' realize they've been following you blindly for all these years! Just like their fathers followed Lucius Malfoy, the most notorious of the Death Eaters...."

Draco couldn't allow that. He threw his goblet at Lisha, hitting her hard in the stomach. She yelped loudly, and drew in her breath quickly. The hall grew quiet.

"Don't you _ever_ talk about my father like that!" Malfoy's face was redder than it had ever been, considering his remarkably pale complexion. "_Nobody_ speaks of the Malfoys that way! We are a respectable family! How dare you!"

He saw Lisha grab her wand, and his next memory was of a loud voice which seemed to be yelling right in his ear.

"One more outburst like that and you'll both have detention for a month!" Professor McGonagall stood over Draco.

Draco looked around. He saw Lisha on the floor. The wand had never made it out of her pocket. "But she was going to use magic on me! Didn't you see?"

"Nonsense," Professor Blodsucan said. "Lisha isn't trained enough to do any serious damage to you with that wooden stick of hers. Now, get off the floor, both of you."

Lisha's eyes were half-opened, but she was hardly moving. The voice of Professor Blodsucan seemed to make her weaker, for when she struggled to stand, he muttered something under his breath, and she slipped and fell. It couldn't mean much, because she didn't seem to surprised.

"As punishment," Professor McGonagall continued, glaring at Professor Snape, "the two of you will return to the Slytherin house and miss the rest of the Halloween party. No points will be taken from you because..." She never bothered to finish her sentence, but her scowl at Professor Snape grew harsher. "Just go."

"How many times is that you've gotten me in trouble?" Draco was still seething on the way up to the Slytherin tower. "Two? Three? And it's only the third month of school. You know, I hardly ever got in trouble last year, or the year before."

Lisha didn't reply. Her eyes were only half-open, as they were when she was on the floor in the hall. She didn't even appear to be listening.

Draco continued rambling. "...And that bit about my father! That was really uncalled for. My father was in a trance when he joined the Death Eaters. He works _against_ Lord Voldemort now. So do Crabbe and Goyle's fathers. They were hypnotized by his evil powers, kinda like you've hypnotized Goyle into liking you."

"This argument is becoming redundant," Lisha mumbled, still staring blankly ahead. Without another word from her lips, she turned left into the girls' section of the Slytherin tower.

Malfoy continued on his way to his room shared with his two friends. Hatred bubbled in his heart, mixed with something he couldn't identify. It was too much for him to comprehend, that deep emotion boiling in the depths of his soul.

So deep in his thoughts and emotions, Draco didn't even hear Crabbe and Goyle enter the room, nor when they said "goodnight." His vexation towards Lisha crowded his mind, and it was nearly daybreak when he finally fell asleep.


	8. Draco Malfoy and the Bloodstone Chapter ...

_Draco Malfoy_  
And the Bloodstone  
__ _ _ _ _By Ti'ana_

_Chapter One_

Next morning, classes resumed. Lisha failed to show up for Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, and then lunch. The next time she was seen was in Potions, and she looked more dead than alive.

Professor Snape seemed utterly bothered by this. It took Lisha nearly three minutes to make it to her desk from the top of the stairs. People pushed past her, nearly knocking the sickly girl over. Her dark hair washed out her sheet-white complexion. Her eyes sunk deep into her head, and they were rimmed by dark circles.

By the end of class, she was shivering uncontrollably. Draco was the only one who noticed at first, but didn't mention it to anyone.

Professor Snape went to their table and craned his neck over Draco's cauldron to see how well his potion (which Snape had not given the name of) was doing, but was distracted by the trembling girl. His mouth formed a tight "O."

He bent down and whispered, "I want you to go to Madam Pomfrey right now, Miss Luralby. I want to see you... tonight." His voice lowered even more, so only Lisha could hear. Naturally, Draco strained to hear. "Midnight should be adequate." Lisha nodded and bowed her head.

Now, this was interesting...

***

"All you gotta do is sneak into the Gryffindor house, find Potter's room and get the cloak!" Draco rubbed his hands together quickly.

"What if I get caught?" Crabbe was hanging upside-down from a post on his bed. It was remarkable how such a flimsy piece of wood supported his weight.

Draco closed his eyes. "If you do what I say, you won't get caught. Just watch out when you find Potter and Weasley's room. Go during dinner, I suppose."

"But... what if I get caught?!"

"Just say that you were invited or something. Come on, you've made up just as many stories as Fred and George combined to get out of trouble. And once you get the Invisibility cloak, you'll be safe. ¿Comprende, amigo?"

"Sí," Crabbe mumbled, and jumped down from the bed. "How am I supposed to get into the Gryffindor house? The Fat Lady's gonna ask who I am and the password."

"Ah, that's an easy one!" Malfoy dug into his pocket and emerged with a torn sheet of paper. Some words were scribbled on it.

Crabbe snatched the scrap of parchment. "It's a list of the week's passwords. Where'd you get this?"

"Always knew Longbottom'd be useful for something. Dimwit can't remember the passwords so he writes em down. Look at this." Draco pointed to the first word. "'Chocolate Frogs,' 'lemon drops'... I swear to you, Gryffindor is almost as despicable as Hufflepuff when it comes to intellect."

"Be back as soon as I can. Cover for me if someone comes in and asks for me."

"Who's gonna ask for you, Crabbe? The Bloody Baron?"

Without another word, Crabbe was off.

The Invisibility Cloak was one of the rarest items in the wizarding world. Draco had always wanted one, and he could have easily obtained it with all his father's money. But his father refused when he learned of Draco's intentions. Even he couldn't remember what he was going to do, but Lucius Malfoy forgets nothing (except the part about being a Death Eater), and continued to refuse to get him one.

Goyle stepped into the room no more than five minutes after Crabbe left. He had a very grim expression on his face, and he said nothing as he sat down on his bed.

"What's up with the face, Goyle?" Draco circled the bed. Then, sarcastically, "Your girlfriend break up with you?" He laughed like mad at his own immature crack.

"Remember those teekuus we were supposed to care for in Hagrid's class?"

Uh-oh. Draco gulped. "Um... yeah. Damn it, I keep forgetting to care for that thing after classes are over. Stupid furry creatures. Why do you ask?"

"Yeah? Well, Lisha's been taking care of yours and Crabbe's teekuu because you're too dumb to care about that thing when you don't have to."

"So?"

"Well, Hagrid asked me to put the teekuus in their cages, and I accidentally put your animal away with ours." Goyle turned a slightly green shade.

"And?"

"Well... let's just say ours was a girl and yours... wasn't."

Draco paused, then quickly said, "You mean they d..."

"Yep... that's what I mean."

"Great, more of those balls of nappy fur. Why the down face?"

Goyle didn't seem to want to answer. "You don't pay attention in class, do you?"

Draco laughed. "Neither do you. Not in Care for Magical Creatures, anyway."

"True, but you don't need to pay attention in class to know what happens when you put a male and female in the same tank, and the deed is done... You can see for yourself."

Draco stopped laughing immediately. "What happened?"

"She ate him, Malfoy!"

"I knew it! Lisha's a monster!"

Goyle grabbed Draco by the collar and threw him on the bed. "The female teekuu! She tore him to pieces. My God, I didn't know breeders had to monitor two teekuus in the same tank. She massacred.... butchered the poor thing. I was there when it happened... but our teekuu has gotten so big, I won't even touch it anymore."

"So it's dead. That means I'm going to fail the class!"

"Oh, calm down. If anyone's going to fail, it's going to be me and Lisha. I'll... I'll take the full blame. I don't want Lisha to fail, too."

"_Why_ do you care about that girl so much, Gregory Goyle? What could you possibly like about her?"

"Why _don't_ you like her, Malfoy?" When Draco refused to answer, Goyle left the room.

Draco was left dumbfounded. What was it about Lisha he hated so much? Was there a reason for him to see her as nothing more than another Muggle-lover or no-good witch who didn't know what was good for her?

Perhaps he didn't dislike her. That thought made him upset; if he didn't dislike her, he would have to like her. That's just the way he was. Ignoring her didn't work at all.

"Fine," Malfoy concluded. "I don't have to like her to be pleasant. Acknowledging her existence without _liking_ it can't hurt, can it?"

"Who are you talking to?" A voice with no body spoke from somewhere near the door. Draco was on the verge of screaming when he recognized who it was.

"Crabbe?" He groped around with his hand in the air, trying to find his invisible friend.

"My nose!" The cloak fell from Crabbe's shoulders, revealing the oversized brute holding his face, scrunched up and red. "Take the cloak, man. You know, cats can still sense you in this thing? I barely got away from Mrs. Norris. Who names their cat Mrs. Norris?"

"Filch. What time is it?"

"About eleven, I suppose. What are you gonna do with this thing, anyway? Steal something from the house-elves? I hear Dobby's working in the kitchen."

"That good-for-nothing lowlife excuse of a house-elf deserves to be a slave here."

Crabbe started to tell him that wasn't the case, but decided against it. "Just take the cloak and be done with whatever you gotta do."

Malfoy finally snatched the cloak. The liquidy-silver fabric practically sifted through his fingers. It was almost weightless, very silky and exquisite. But Malfoy was not a thief. He would return it to Potter as soon as he finished with it. Hopefully, it wouldn't have to be face-to-face.

He threw the cloak over his head, and adjusted it best he could. Closing his eyes, he breathed in deeply. The musty smell of the dorm room filled his nostrils, causing him to cough several times before he was able to look into the mirror hanging on the wall adjacent to his bed. He gasped when he saw there was no reflection. Even though he expected to see nothing, the shock of actually viewing it was immense. Just to make sure he was still tangible, Draco pinched his arm, where he figured it would be. The sting told him he was still alive.

"Now, time to get down to business." Snape's office was in the Slytherin Tower, down the hall from the common room. If he was quiet, Draco would be able to enter the office along with Lisha if he found her along the way. It would be quite a feat to get around her when she went to close the door.

Tiptoeing out of the boy's wing, Draco found himself twenty yards from the hall leading to Professor Snape's office. He had his own bedroom, but tonight, Draco suspected Snape would be in the office, awaiting Lisha's arrival.

"Damn it!" Draco's voice echoed through the hall when he saw he was late. Through the glass window of Snape's office, he could see Lisha sitting solemnly across from Severus. All Draco could see was the back of her. Snape was pacing back and forth quickly.

Through the thick, wooden door, Draco heard very little. Once, though, he caught Snape yelling, "This is dangerous, Lisha! Do you know what the consequences are if someone finds out about this?" Then, Lisha began to sob. Malfoy could see her shoulders moving up and down as she wept. Her head fell into her lap, and Snape quickly moved to her side.

Draco gritted his teeth. _This is inappropriate_, he thought. If Lisha had a relationship with Snape, that in itself was an awfully taboo subject. However, Draco was more concerned with how well she would be doing in Potions by the end of the year. Snape obviously favored her over him now, something Draco could not tolerate.

Quietly, he hurried back to his room. He didn't notice until the next morning the Invisibility Cloak still hadn't been returned to Harry as he had expected.

*** 

"All right, team." Marcus Flint rubbed his hands together quickly. "I hear Hufflepuff is twenty-eight points down. 

"Dracs, we've worked out our technique. Fly high! You _must_ get to the Snitch before Diggory does, understood?"

"Flint, that's the point of the game... Seek the Snitch and gain 150 points. Unless Hufflepuff got _really_ good over the past four years, which probably isn't so, they shouldn't be a problem."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Flint turned to Goyle. "You're a big guy. Don't let the Chasers by you, understood? Knock them off their brooms if you must. Discretely, please." Flint sighed. "Okay?"

Madam Hooch rushed over to the group, huddled in the corner of their Quidditch prep room.

"Change of plans, folks! I scheduled Hufflepuff to play against Ravenclaw." The team groaned, but anticipated her next words. "I know, I know. The Ravenclaw captain postponed because their Seeker had an accident yesterday." (One couldn't help noticing the two Beaters, Derrick and Bole, shifting uncomfortably.) "Because of the circumstances, I've persuaded Dumbledore to remove all points taken away from Slytherin. Your point value remains at zero, which is an improvement from negative fifty."

"So, what are we gonna do?"

"Calm down, Mister Flint. Mister Potter has agreed to let the Gryffindor team play today. He says the team is well prepare-"

A cheer rose from the Slytherin Quidditch team, cutting Madam Hooch off. Flint's voice, of course, was the loudest. Lisha had no reaction. She didn't look as pale as usual. In fact, her cheeks were more pink than the practically white complexion she usually wore. Malfoy hadn't taken his glare off her. He was determined to expose her relationship with Professor Snape as soon as possible. He just needed to wait for the right moment.

"All right, team!" Flint was walking lightly on his feet. "Let's get out there and kick some Gryffindor a-"

"Mister Flint!"

Draco clutched his Nimbus. This was it. Another chance to try and prove himself to Hogwarts that he was, indeed, the best Seeker. Because of his small build, he was able to maneuver quickly around the other larger players. He was even more bantam than Harry Potter.

"Here comes the Slytherin team!" Lee Jordan, the Quidditch announcer along with Professor Minerva McGonagall, followed those five words with a low "boo." A chorus of hisses and rude whistles followed.

"We have Marcus Flint, captain of the Slytherins, as Chaser number one, followed by Warrington and Luralby. Beaters Derrick and Bole, then last and certainly not least because all of the Slytherin team are losers..."

"Mister Jordan!" Professor McGonagall rapped the boy on the head.

"Hey, sorry Professor. Anyway, Goyle as Keeper. Good luck man!"

A great ovation followed once the Slytherin team was out on the field and up in the air. The Gryffindor team had made their entrance.

"Here they are, folks, the people you've been waiting for! First in line is everyone's favorite, Seeker Harry Potter! He's the new Quidditch captain, and as we'll see by the end of this match, the best we've had! Behind him we see Ron Weasley, the new Keeper, and his brothers Fred and George. Hey guys!" The two waved to Jordan. "Best pranksters and Beaters Hogwarts ever knew! Then we have Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson, the prettiest Chasers ever to set foot in this school!

"And they're off! This match refereed by everyone's favorite Quidditch coach, Madam Hooch! Let's see... Yes, there they go! The Quaffle, Bludgers and... is that the Snitch? Yes, I believe it is... oh, it's gone! This match is officially started!"

Just as Flint had ordered him to, Malfoy rose high above the game. His Nimbus remained stationary as he searched the field for the Golden Snitch, and kept his eye on Harry Potter to see if he had spotted it.

"...Bell has taken control of the Quaffle and... yes! Gryffindor has scored! What is this?" Lee opened his palm. "It's raining, folks, but let this not dampen our spirits! We have a game to win! Er... watch!"

Malfoy groaned. He was unsure of the score at present, but knew Slytherin wasn't too far behind Gryffindor. The game had just started, after all.

A Bludger zipped past him. Surprised that it had traveled so high after him, his eyes darted from side to side. He spotted one of the Weasley twins (he couldn't tell which one) laughing hysterically. The Bludger that had almost knocked Malfoy off his broom had zipped back towards the twin, who darted out of the way.

Draco caught sight of Potter. He was after something, all right. The Snitch.

Draco's main objective at this point, because he could not see the glittering golden winged disk, was to distract Potter.

"Yee-ah!" Laughing, Draco plunged down, down towards Potter. The Nimbus 2002 was much faster than the Firebolt, he noticed. It was unbelievable. He was going to beat Harry Potter!

"Watch it, Malfoy!" Harry reared back, and shot high in the air, then back down on Draco's other side.

"Damn!" Harry was still after the Snitch. And Draco couldn't even see it! Not through the rain, anyway, which was growing heavier by the second.

"And there goes Luralby, with three scores in a row! I must say," Lee Jordan announced, "I've never seen such an impressive act by a slimy Slytherin!"

"For those of you worried about the game," Professor McGonagall said, "the score is now sixty to eighty, Gryffindor's lead."

_He's tricking you_, a clear, familiar voice spoke in his head. Surprised he could "hear" this, Draco stopped in midair. Harry, though, was still going after the imaginary Snitch. _Look behind you!_

He did. Hovering only inches away from his head hung the Golden Snitch. It was moving fast, though, away from him. Whatever had told him to believe that Harry Potter was playing him for a fool, Draco silently thanked. Even though Potter had spotted the real Snitch, he was much too far away to get to it before Malfoy.

"Goyle blocked that one well! Score remains sixty to ninety," Lee continued.

Gaining extreme speed, Malfoy extended his arm towards the glittering Snitch, its wings flapping madly. The rain made it even more difficult for Malfoy to see, but he had a good idea of where it could be.

Draco lost track of what happened next. Another Bludger zigzagged past him. He heard the voice of Marcus Flint, and then the pained grunt of Lisha as her fellow Chaser rammed into her. Flint gained control of his broom; Lisha did not. Though she had stopped, the broom kept going, and she fell. On her way down to the rain-soaked ground below, Malfoy, still after the Snitch, somehow winded up beneath her as his fingers closed around the wings of the precious and most valued Quidditch ball. As she fell on him, he lost his grip, and the Snitch continued on its way. It seemed to have become confused, as it flew straight into his Quidditch robe sleeve!

But the Nimbus was gone. It too had continued moving when he was hit by the falling Lisha as her broom had done to her. Thankfully, Malfoy later noted, Professor Dumbledore was present at the match. He recalled this only when wondering later why he had not hit the ground as hard as he should have.

Therefore, he was very much unscathed as he landed in the mud, and full of energy.

The first thing done was to dig in the arm of his Quidditch robe, and he emerged with the Golden Snitch. Uninterested in the Slytherin victory as Madam Hooch proclaimed they had beaten Gryffindor, two-hundred ten to sixty.

"I'll have your head for this, Lisha Luralby!" Malfoy lunged at the girl, drenched by the rain and streaked with mud.

The crowd gasped as he gripped her by the shoulders and pinned her to the ground. The Gryffindor team laughed when Lisha reversed the attack, and flipped the not-much-larger Malfoy off her stomach. She wasted not time in mimicking his attack. It was quite a sight. The Slytherin team cheered as the two wrestled in the mud for several minutes.

Lisha was a lot stronger than Malfoy had expected. When he went to grab her arm, she surprised him with a hard uppercut to the chin. Not wary to the fact that he was fighting in front of the entire Hogwarts staff, much more shocking to his ego with a girl, Malfoy wasted no time in striking Lisha hard in the face. He aimed for the area above her ear, but instead punched her in the right eye.

The Slytherins were no longer cheering. Ron and Harry, who had been laughing hysterically at the fact a Malfoy would even conceive fighting with a girl stood daunted. Even the teachers who had rushed over to break the two up stopped. Pansy, with her bulldog face, showed less adoration of Malfoy three times more than she had ever appeared to fancy him. _He had hit a girl._

The strike didn't seem to bother Lisha much. She had stopped attacking Malfoy, but she was breathing heavily. Her deep, sad brown eyes were filled with a hatred that Draco had only seen in his father when he spoke of the demise of Voldemort because of the Potter boy (quickly adding that the Avada Kedavra spell worked every time, and it was surprising that one such as Potter had survived; not because he was once a Death Eater). Those eyes seemed to pierce his very soul. It gave him the oddest sense of fear he had ever felt.

Professor McGonagall was the first to break the silence. In a solemn voice, she said, "I warned both of you. If you stepped out of line once more, you would suffer the repercussions. It will be detention for two months for such despicable behavior. I have not seen a more heinous act for many, many years."

Professor Snape stepped forward. "Forgive me, Minerva, but I have a better solution." His eyes landed softly on Lisha, a little more harshly on Malfoy, then back to Professor McGonagall. "Two months sitting in a room will teach these troublemakers nothing. I propose they work with Rubeus Hagrid with his new problem. I am sure it will frighten the two back in line."

This suggestion seemed to delight Professor McGonagall. "It would, wouldn't it. Yes, that is a sufficient punishment.

"The two of you will work for one day with Hagrid." She frowned when she saw Malfoy's look of fear leave his face. "Believe me, this experience will make you think twice before ever breaking school disciplinary command again. You will serve your detention the last week of January, Saturday night to Sunday morning if you are needed for that long."

"All right, everyone," Professor Dumbledore said. "Back to your houses. School resumes tomorrow, children!"

Malfoy realized he was still watching Lisha glaring at him. She had some nerve, that girl. Draco's pupils narrowed in his pale gray-blue eyes. His pale skin flushed a faint shade of pink. He realized something just before Lisha broke eye contact.

She _was_ rather pretty. Despite her plain features, Draco found something about them as appealing. And he had to admit, she had courage. Goyle must have seen this before, long before Draco had considered befriending her, and then completely changed his mind about that idea. his eyes widened when he realized he had been _smiling._

Draco could deny it no longer. He, too, began to fall for the girl.

Aaah! Well, you knew it was going to happen eventually T.T and  
what better way to say "I love you" than a punch in the face? Next  
chapter's almost finished! Keep reviewing ^.~ I love hearing from  
my readers. Ideas are good, too!

__ _ _ _ __Ti'ana MYST (Leah C.)


	9. Draco Malfoy and the Bloodstone Chapter ...

_Draco Malfoy_  
And the Bloodstone  
__ _ _ _ _By Ti'ana_

_Chapter Nine_

Draco Malfoy was walking in dark shadows the rest of the week. Draco Malfoy, fancying a girl? Not just any girl, but the one he had vowed on many occasions to hate until the end of the world. Bitterly, he thought of the world ending at any moment. Now _that_ would be something to celebrate.

Even Hooch Against the Dark Arts, easily Draco's second-best class, had become boring. As Professor Blodsucan had promised back in September, they began to study vampires and other nonliving creatures the second week of December.

Professor Blodsucan rapped his wand against his desk at the front of the room to attract the attention of the palled class. Last year's Professor Remus Lupin could keep a class awake better than this man. Then again, he turned out to be a werewolf.

"Mister Malfoy," Blodsucan interrupted the boy's thoughts. "Repeat the last phrase I spoke."

Draco didn't hesitate to throw back a witty remark. "Something about the Dark Arts and how to protect ourselves from them?" A few students stifled laughter.

"No, that is incorrect. Would anyone like to tell us what we were discussing? How about you, Miss Luralby?"

Even simply hearing her name struck Malfoy harshly. He turned to see her, huddled in the back of the room next to an empty seat. She appeared just as out of it as Draco did.

"The different species of vampires, Professor. We were speaking about the Nosferatu, sir." Lisha never maintained eye contact with the teacher.

"And, Miss Luralby, what is the difference between the Nosferatu and most other forms of vampires?" Professor Blodsucan seemed to enjoy terrifying his students.

Lisha paused. "The Nosferatu is the only species of the nonliving that were never human. Therefore, they cannot be healed."

"Ah, so you _were_ paying attention. Now, we have less than one week to your Christmas holiday. Everyone, I want a paper written by each of you in on the first day you return. Three feet... and a half," he added, when he heard groans from the class. The only student who didn't seem to be bothered was Hermione, who could write a ten-foot long paper in less than a day.

"There are few species of vampire who cannot be transformed back into their human forms. However, the other forms can. Does anyone here know by what method a vampire can be healed?"

Hermione's hand shot high in the air. Blodsucan seemed to ignore her. "Anyone?"

Hermione seemed to jump out of her chair.

"Mister Longbottom," (Neville paled) "would you know by what means a cursed one may be transformed back to a full-fledged human?"

Neville gulped. "I- I believe, Professor, that- that a vampire can be turned back to a human being needs to fine... to find the Bloodstone, sir."

Professor Blodsucan's black eyes seemed to glitter, pleased. He rubbed his beak-nose. "Very, _very_ good, Mister Longbottom. The Bloodstone is a crimson-red disk which constantly drips a blood-like liquid. It certainly lives up to its name." No one laughed. "Is there anything someone would like to add?" He acknowledged Hermione's flapping hand.

"The liquid dripped by the Bloodstone can only be contained by a crystal goblet so rare that only the head of all vampires has the substance." Then, she added, just to sound more scholarly, "No one knows _who_ or _where_ the head of vampires lives, but there have been rumored sightings in Transylvania, Bulgaria, Czechoslovakia, the Sahara Desert, and less than one hundred years ago, London. Sightings are followed by-"

"Thank you, Miss Granger, for teaching my class." A few students snickered. "Back to the paper. I want a well-developed essay on the existence of the vampire, and the legend of the Bloodstone. Where is it found, how is it contained, who does it heal. First day you return. If you have vampires in your family, they should be very helpful. But watch your necks." He grinned, and laughed tightly.

"Those of you who will be remaining at Hogwarts for the vacation, see me after class, and I will give you permission to use the restricted section of the library. You may not take these books out, so if you are returning to your homes, you're on your own. Class dismissed."

Draco was extremely pleased to leave the class. Rushing, he had left behind Crabbe and Goyle. When he turned to see where they were, he couldn't find them. He did, though, see Lisha.

"So," he said coolly, almost nastily, "You're parents don't want you home for the vacation, I'm sure. Will you be staying at school, or has St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies agreed to bring you in?"

Lisha continued walking, but her eyes grew dark. "No. But they did send an owl. I believe their prat was missing"

"Oh, that hurt, sincerely." He held his hand over his heart. "Why must you torment me so?"

"I live to see the rich, arrogant and handsome squirm beneath my grasp, Malfoy. It especially pleases me to see you anguished and seething." She had stopped walking. "I hate seeing how you treat people. I hate seeing you thrive on the discomfort of other people. I hate _you_, Draco Malfoy."

Watching Lisha storm off to Charms left Draco with mixed emotions. He realized at fourteen he shouldn't have to worry about trivial things like having an enemy, but merely two months from age fifteen, things like "love," "lust," and all of the things teenagers look forward to would be coming into effect. 

What could he do, though? It seemed Lisha already had fallen for Professor Snape (the thought of them together made Draco feel nauseous). He noticed that Lisha stayed after class every day with Snape, and she missed the first trip to Hogsmeade because he suggested she come see him instead. Draco didn't like the fact that his competition was his favorite teacher, but there was no way he could confront either of them about it. What if he was wrong about the two of them?

"Collect yourself, Dracs," he told himself. "Concentrate. Father has an entire library centered around the dark arts. So at least you won't have to worry about staying here for the break. Oh great, where am I?"

Draco had taken a wrong turn somewhere. He glanced around, and realized this was a hallway he had never seen in his three-and-something months at Hogwarts. He had read in _Hogwarts, A History_ that Hogwarts was known to changed paths often, making anyone unfamiliar with the building lose their way easily. Once, a Hufflepuff boy was lost for three months before he realized he had been walking around in circles. Strange things certainly did take place here! Fortunately for Draco, losing his way had been a recent endeavor, so it was only a few seconds until he was back on trail to Charms.  


***  


"You must be kidding me!" Azrael, Draco's eagle owl, hooted and flew back to the owlery, trying to get away from his annoyed owner. Apparently, the message he had delivered along with Draco's daily sweets was not good work. Because an owl in the magic world is only satisfied if their owners, deliverers or recipients were content, Azrael felt he had fail in his duty, and rather than fly off with the other owls, he remained at the table until he was dismissed.

Draco fumed and shoved his letter in the poor owls face. "'Important guests for important business,' they say! 'Best if you stay at Hogwarts for the vacation' they say! No good parents, who do they think they are? Do they want me to _rot_ in this school? I have never, in my entire life, spent Christmas away from Malfoy Manor. Who wrote this, Azrael? Was it Mother? Or Father? Tell me, you no good pigeon!"

Azrael had obviously taken enough abuse. He snapped his beak right on Draco's pointy nose, and flew back to the owlery.

Rubbing his face, Draco jumped up. "Goyle, you've got a spare Howler somewhere?" Goyle simply stared at him. Apparently, there was a hint of animosity in their friendship still. "Fine then. Crabbe?"

"Yep, got some on my last trip to Hogsmeade."

"How much do you want for one?"

Crabbe considered. "Two galleons, and five sickles."

"Are you nuts! Howlers aren't that expensive! I'll give you _one_ galleon, plus this sack of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. Deal?" The bag of Bertie Bott's was being clutched by Draco's long, pallid fingers. His knuckles, pale as they were, became white around the knuckles, holding tightly to the cloth in anticipation. 

"Deal." Crabbed greedily snatched the Every Flavor Beans first. He pulled at the blue strings and dug his hand in the bag. The first bean he pulled out was a disgusting green color. Disgusted, he handed that particular one to Draco.

"Are you kidding? I'm not even going to consider trying that one." He slyly looked two seats to his left. "Luralby, you try this one." He reached over and dropped it on her dish.

Lisha didn't even look at him, but picked up the jellybean to examine it. Draco sat on the edge of his seat to see her expression when she put it in her mouth.

"Mmhm," she mumbled as she chewed. "Mint."

"Damn. Well, the least you can say is thank you."

Finally, Lisha looked at Draco. "I was not kidding before, Malfoy, when I told you I despised you. If you're looking for an acceptance of an apology, you will not find it with me."

Frustrated, Draco stood and walked away from the table. He hadn't even realized what he had done until he saw that he was already on his way down to his next class, Potions. Fifteen minutes early. Rather, he headed towards the Slytherin tower. "Pure-blood," he muttered when he reached the secret passage, and stepped through as the wall moved away from him.

Draco found the red envelopes easily. Crabbe wasn't too bright, as all of his secret items were stored in the same place, year after year. Five Howlers waited patiently for some ticked-off person to be screamed at, then relay the message through Owl Post. Draco picked the top envelope up, and peered inside.

There was nothing inside. Draco dug into his robe pocket and emerged with his wand. As if he knew what he was doing, he pointed the wand inside the empty envelope and muttered,"_Magna vox."_ Then he breathed in deeply.

_"How could you do this to me! You can't leave me in this godforsaken school while everyone else will be headed home! Do you really want me stuck at Hogwarts with stupid whits like Harry Potter and the Weasley kids? What _were_ you thinking?! I'm getting on that train whether you want me to or not! Pick me up at Platform 9 ¾ on time, or there will be hell to pay! I will never forgive either of you if you are not there!"_

Draco's rant went on for a bit longer. He knew very well it was unnecessary for him to yell into the envelope, as the Howler would magnify his voice tenfold. This should surely make his parents think twice before making him stay at school with the students whose parents wanted nothing to do with them until the summer.

That is, unless his letter was intercepted and someone found out a minor had used a spell that was supposed to be operated only by parents, guardians, and elder family members. He wasn't even supposed to know there _was_ a _magna vox_ charm!

At any rate, he sent the letter via a very relieved Azrael, who realized he hadn't failed in his duties to his owner. He even nipped Draco lovingly, who, disgusted, swatted at his owl and left the owlery. 

A bell-like sound signaled the beginning of the next class.

"Oh, no, late!" Professor Snape wouldn't be too lenient with Draco. He demonstrated that he no longer cared which students were in what house (as long as it wasn't Gryffindor, which he still mercilessly subtracted points from), unless the name of the student was Lisha Luralby.

"Wait a moment," he said aloud. "Missing one class for the whole year can't be too detrimental to my grades." He remembered several times a week when Lisha failed to show up for class. None of the teachers ever bothered _her_ about it!

It would have been a good idea for him to begin research for his assignment in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Draco's best bet was to see Professor Blodsucan as soon as possible, for it seemed no matter how often or how loud he blazed at his parents, they would never allow him to come home over the vacation.

"Professor?" Draco knocked on the heavy wooden door to Blodsucan's office. It creaked open. "Professor, are you here?"

"Who is there?" The Professor's voice seemed muffled and far away. "Mister Malfoy?" Automatically, the voice seemed to be right on the other side of the half-opened door. "Is that you?"

"Yessir," Draco answered. "I was wondering if I could have a pass to use the restricted section of the library?" He pushed the door open. "I was misinformed by my parents and it turns out I will be spending the holidays here at school."

"Don't come any further in, please," Blodsucan's voice commanded. "Otherwise you will never find your way out again."

This was no exaggeration. The office was a mess. How could a teacher barely around for four months destroy it so quickly? Perhaps it was only clutter, as Blodsucan's papers were all neatly filed in what Draco recognized as a Muggle file cabinet. It must have been bewitched to organize papers alphabetically by itself. The Professor's desk as well was very neat. Draco noticed a golden quill pen, a crystal vile filled with deep red liquid, another half-filled with a teal-green watery substance and several books stacked upon each other according to size.

"Don't touch that!" Draco had begun to trace his finger on an intricately designed goblet when the Professor had stopped him.

"A disaster area, I know." Blodsucan sighed. "I am currently working on organizing all these items, most of which, like that one, are very rare and expensive. This," and he motioned to a five-foot statue carved from wood, "was made from the willow tree on which Marivlo the Trickster was hanged five hundred years ago. That rug you are standing on led Calath to her bedchamber the night before her execution. She was accused of being a witch." He smiled when he watched Draco jump off the black velvety carpet. "She was foolish enough to tell her husband, a typical Muggle Reverend, she was a member of the magic folk. The Muggles of that time were very ignorant, don't you agree?"

Draco smirked. "With all-do respect, Professor, Muggles _stil_l are ignorant to the magic world."

"Spoken like a true-blooded wizard, Draco."

The first-name basis made Draco feel a bit uncomfortable, but he simply shrugged it off.

"A-anyway, sir, I just came by to ask if you would be so gracious as to give me the permission to-"

"Of course, of course." Blodsucan licked his red lips, stepped over to his table and snatched the vile with the teal liquid. He sipped, placed it down, and turned back to Draco. "Just a moment." Blodsucan took his golden quill and began to write the permission slip on an aged piece of parchment. "There you go. One ticket to the restricted section of the library."

"Thank you, sir." Draco took the paper and turned towards the door. As his did, Professor Blodsucan grabbed his arm.

"Make good use of your time in the section of the library, Mister Malfoy." His hard, black eyes gleamed. "Take advantage of the situation. I suggest you read up on how to conjure, dispel and destroy dark forces. I see a great power in you, Draco. Don't waste it."

Draco was suddenly reminded of Harry Potter's Invisibility Cloak hidden under his mattress back in the Slytherin tower. Now that everyone was in class, it was the best time to return it.


	10. Draco Malfoy and the Bloodstone Chapter ...

_Draco Malfoy_  
And the Bloodstone  
__ _ _ _ _By Ti'ana_

_Chapter Ten_

"DO YOU HAVE ANY COMPREHENSION OF THE EMBARRASSMENT YOU PUT YOUR MOTHER AND I THROUGH?! DOZENS OF GUESTS SITTING AROUND A TABLE WHEN ALL OF A SUDDEN A RED ENVELOPE EXPLODES IN FRONT OF ME! I HOPE YOU ARE CONTENT WITH YOURSELF, YOUNG MAN! DON'T DARE EXPECT A FANCY PRESENT FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY NEXT MONTH, EITHER! HOW MANY TIME HAVE WE TOLD YOU TO RESPECT US?!"

A chorus of laughs followed the scolding Lucius Malfoy had sent his son. The Howler Draco had sent his parents had been heard by his father's congregation of several people who, in secret, referred to themselves still as the Death Eaters. Of course, the only evil they ever performed was when they were told by Lord Voldemort himself. Other than that, they were, for the most part, _good_ people. This trait was shattered in his mind by Draco's first official Howler. His parents always valued him as precious, and would _never_ dream of leaving their son to the utter embarrassment he would have to face by his peers at lunch.

He wasn't surprised when Harry Potter approached him at the end of lunch. "So, you've come to taunt me, huh? Care to rub it in a little more? Just so you know, my parents never sent me a Howler before. I'd say the same for you, but your parents are-"

"That's not what I want to talk about." Harry's grim expression was enough to shut Draco up, and even intrigue him a bit.

"Well, then, what? Out with it, Potter, I don't have all day. I have Potions next, then Transfiguration, and _then_ I have to start researching for Defense Against the Dark Arts. But... hey, why am I telling you?"

Harry's face didn't change, nor did his tone. "What were you doing with my Invisibility Cloak, Malfoy?"

Caught. "Eh? What are you rambling about, Potter? Perhaps you should see Madam Pomfrey for those awkward illusions of yours. It could be deadly. Most likely hereditary." He grinned evilly.

"I mean it, Malfoy! I know you took it because Neville saw Crabbe walking around in the Gryffindor house. Mighty coincidental that it coincided with the disappearance of my father's precious heirloom. I know you're going to tell me that you didn't take it, but I know you did already. Just tell me, what did you use it for?"

"I..." Draco didn't know what to say. Instead, he mumbled, "Yes, I took it. I had Crabbe sneak in with a list of passwords Longbottom dropped on the ground. I wasn't going to keep it-"

"I _know_ it was you," Harry hissed under his breath. "Just tell me why."

Normally, Draco would dismiss Harry with a few choice words from his quick, rude tongue. Today, he wasn't feeling quite normal.

"Conspiracy, Potter," Draco whispered. "I overheard Professor Snape telling Lisha that he wanted to see her late at night, and I was interested. Obviously, I couldn't let them see me, and you're the only person in this school who has the Invisibility Cloak. I found out what I needed to find, and that was all I needed. For God's sake, please don't tell anyone what I just said!" Draco held his hands together, pleading. "If either of them find out, they'll turn it around against me, and in the end, I'll be expelled and my wand will be taken away from me and... and I'll wind up like Hagrid."

Up to the comment about Hagrid, Harry was looking pretty sympathetic. "I should turn you in, Malfoy. In fact, maybe I will. You _and_ Crabbe." Harry waited until Draco's face fell halfway to the floor. "But I won't, under one circumstance."

"Anything!"

"Tell me two things. One- what did you find out. Two- why did you care?"

_I knew it would come to this_, Draco thought. "You won't tell anyone, will you?"

"Maybe Ron, but I'm sure he wouldn't care, because he hates you and everything you stand for."

"What, wealth?" Draco quickly apologized. "All right, I'll tell you. I went out after them to confirm my suspicions of the two of them... well, you know, their relationship. And boy, was it verified. And the next question, I cared because... because..." he paused. Should he lie? No, no matter how much he despised Harry, he did save him from expulsion of the school. He mumbled his answer quickly.

Harry sarcastically put a hand to his ear, cupping it so he could hear better. "What was that, Draco Malfoy? I didn't quite catch what you said. 'Tell Dumbledore?' Why, if you insist!"

"My God, Potter are you stubborn!" Draco almost smiled. "If you don't mind me saying this... I don't really have anyone intellectual to speak to. Crabbe wouldn't understand half what I say, and I can't tell Goyle because he likes Lisha, a lot. So here goes." He breathed in deeply. "The first time I saw her, she amazed me. Not because of her beauty, which she doesn't have much of. I mean, she _is_ pretty, but, well, anyway, let me continue." (Harry motioned for him to do so.) "Those eyes of hers, they're so secretive. You can never tell what she's thinking, unless she's really angry, then they get really dark and not-so-friendly. She was so stubborn and rude, so naturally I couldn't stand her. As time went on, though, I realized she is just like me. Discourteous depending on the crowd, quick with words, brilliant, and handsome."

"Putting yourself on airs, Malfoy?" Harry smiled, genuinely.

"If no one else will, then why shouldn't I?" Draco shook his head. "I was worried about her. That is why I went after her."

"So, did you bother to tell her?"

Draco imagined telling Lisha he had followed her. All he could see was a shower of fists, but he couldn't tell if they were from her or Goyle. Maybe they were even his own. That thought made him laugh. "No way, Potter. We have detention together with Hagrid, and it could get pretty ugly out there in the Forbidden Forest if she wants to dispose of me." He swiped his finger across his neck. "Lisha has an odd response to things."

Harry nodded. He turned to walk away, but seemed to have changed his mind. "So what was the Howler for anyway?"

"Oh, that. I uh.... got mad at my parents because they wouldn't take me home for the vacation. Sent them one of the Howlers my friend got on a trip to Hogsmeade."

"You mean they have those there? Excellent! I'll have to pick some up on our next trip and send one to the Dursleys!" Harry looked pleased with himself.

"The who?"

But Harry was already on his way out of the Great Hall. Draco couldn't help but smile. This was a breakthrough, the fact he had been in a smiling-mood all week. What made the situation even more unbelievable was he had spoken with Harry Potter with no drawing of wands. _It was a civil!_ He had told Harry, though, about his growing feelings for Lisha. What if he decided to tell her? The situation may become as bad as Draco had feared.

The next day, Saturday, at lunch, one of the Malfoy owls from home dropped by the Great Hall and landed on Draco's shoulder, dropping a letter in his plate of food.

"Loki, is that you?" Draco examined the markings of the bird. "Yes, that would be you. What's this for? Hey! Stop that!" The bird was chewing on the lobe of his ear. "Fine, fine! Here, take my roll."

Content, the bird flew back out the window with the rest of the owls. He, though, would be on his way back to the Malfoy residence. Interested that the letter wasn't another red Howler, as Draco figured his parents would be sending quite a few, he opened the parchment. Printed neatly on the paper were a few words:   


We'll pick you up promptly at  
five o'clock p.m. at Platform  
9 ¾. Look for us.  
Mum and Dad  


This sure was a pick-me-up for Draco, as if he could be feeling any better.

  
***  


"Got everything." Draco glanced again around his, Goyle's and Crabbe's dorm room. Twenty-five minutes and he'd be back on the Hogwarts Express, headed to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters to meet his parents.

"Well, Malfoy, gonna be awful quiet around here without you." Goyle was laying on his stomach sorting through his Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. Those which looked suspicious, he handed to Crabbe, who was willing to try anything. Well, almost anything. He skipped one bean that was a pukey-pink color mixed with pea green splotches, and another that was a questionable yellow color.

"Whatever you say," Draco mumbled. "You won't miss me at all. Why, you guys will probably rent out my empty bed to someone while I'm gone."

Goyle's head shot up. "Who told you about that?"

"I didn't say anything!" Crabbe cried, spitting out one of the beans he had chewed quite a bit, trying to figure out what the flavor was.

"Jeez, you two are idiots. I was only kidding, guys."

"So were we," Goyle said nonchalantly. "We sold the land deed for your side of the room to Ron Weasley. Says he sold his house to pay for a spot in the Slytherin tower!" Crabbe laughed stupidly like a hyena.

"Come on, guys, don't pick on him." It took Draco a few seconds to realize who he was talking to. "I mean, that's my job to do that. I'm only allowed to make fun of the Weasleys."

His explanation was good enough for the two brutes, and they continued their venture through Goyle's red sack of Bertie Bott's. "See ya when you get back. Don't hurry."

"Yeah, yeah." Draco marched out of the room, pulling his robe tightly around his small frame, then continued down the stone corridor of the boys section of the Slytherin house. Walking down the corridor towards the Great Hall, Draco ran into Professor Blodsucan. He seemed too busy to notice his student, which was just fine for Draco. Moments later, he passed Blodsucan's office, and nearly trampled over a student bursting out from his office.

"Watch where you're going!" Draco had hit his shoulder on the opened door. The girl looked up at Draco with a look of terror mixed with anguish. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Draco.

"Not sorry," Lisha mumbled, "but glad it's only you."

"Looking for Blodsucan? He's back there by the..."

"I'm not looking for him," she answered quickly, and turned away from Draco.

"Then what were you doing?" Lisha had already started walking away. What _was_ she doing? It certainly was suspicious. Draco had all vacation to think about Lisha (which he most likely would be doing during all waking hours, plus some). Now, however, he had to get to the Hogwarts Express and back home.

At King's Cross Station, Platform 9¾, Draco reunited with his parents late in the afternoon. The sun had already set, as he could see by the time on a Muggle clock. Growing up in a world dominated by Muggles, Draco was pretty much accustomed to such trinkets like watches and clocks. The fact several of his peers had watches disgusted him. Why hadn't they malfunctioned like any other electrical Muggle device would at Hogwarts? That school had many inconsistencies sometimes.

Not a word had been said between Draco and his parents since he had arrived. Casually, Lucius Malfoy Apparated when he was purposely caught in a crowd of Muggle travelers. "Why can't I do that?" Draco whined to his mother.

Narcissa sighed. "You're too young, darling. You don't have your license yet. I promise, when you turn eighteen."

"I'll be fifteen next month. Can't I make myself look older?"

"Not under our roof. Stop acting like a child, Draco, and please keep quiet. We are to use the Floo route. You know they open all the Floo passages for Hogwarts students to get home safely. There is a fireplace at our family friend's house not far from here."

"Why don't we just do what we always do and use the invisibility charm on father's flying car?"

"Lucius gave up ownership of the car once he found out about the Weasleys' flying car and the incident with Harry Potter a while ago. He said it was best not to risk sinking down to Mister Weasley's level by having his son drive his flying car to school one year to show off. Honestly, your father thinks too much. Personally, I don't mind the Weasley's one bit. Don't tell that to your father. Their son Ron is your age. You get along well with him, don't you?"

"Oh, but of course." Of course, Draco couldn't tell his mother he was more like his father than she thought. Almost as much as Lucius did, Draco could not stand the Muggle-lovers, Mudbloods and, up until two days ago, Harry Potter. There was a possibility that Ron Weasley would win a place as Draco's friend, but most definitely _never_ that Mudblood Hermione. Lines had to be drawn somewhere. They formed the bushy-haired formally large-toothed Hermione. An "incident" occurred early in the year in which her teeth grew extremely large, and the nurse shrunk her them a bit more than they should have been. No matter how attractive the mistake had made her, or how "nice" Hermione may be, Draco would never catch himself being "civil" with her. That was something he could never do.

"Oh, Mother," Draco said. "I have a report due after this vacation on vampires and the Bloodstone. Do we have any books on the topic?"

Narcissa thought for a moment. "I believe so. The Scelesti family next door has a few acquaintances that are vampires. Perhaps you could ask them. I'm sure they'll have a book on the Bloodstone. They are very interested in vampirism. Ah, we've arrived." She turned to Draco, and instantly began fixing his collar. "Now, be your usual presentable and well-behaved self until we are home."

  
***  


Draco had no idea how dull it was not to be at school. His second day of vacation was just like a weekend, but it felt as if he had been gone a full week. Why would he be rushing to get back to school? Detention and his January birthday were all he had to look forward to. Well, of course he had something to keep in mind. It made him uncomfortable to think of Lisha... in any way. Oh, being a teenager had far too many complications.

Narcissa knocked on Draco's opened door and stepped in. "Dracie, father is having some friends come over tonight. We suppose this would be the best time for you to head over to the Scelestis and do your essay."

"I want to stay and dine with father's friends."

Narcissa paused. "You know your father prefers you not to be around, acting like a nuisance when his friends are over. Besides, you have no say in the manner." Narcissa clicked her tongue. "Just go. You've always liked Fatua Scelesti, didn't you?"

Draco gritted his teeth. He sure was popular for doing that. "Fatua is ten years old. She's about as intelligent as the Weasley's are rich, and that's saying something..." He forgot about his mother's view of the Weasleys. "I mean...."

Narcissa narrowed her eyes. "I thought I raised you better than that. You are going to go to the Scelesti mansion. You will do your report tonight, or not at all."

Narcissa Malfoy was, for the most part, a woman of few words. When it came to Draco, though, she was a most powerful orator. _What she says goes_, Draco thought. He was always intimidated by Lucius, so he never thought to question the _former _Death Eater's command.

Standing outside the grand mansion of the Scelesti family, Draco clutched his hands together and looked towards the cloudy night sky. "Please, if You have any mercy on me, You'll make this quick and painless."

A clap of thunder seemed to mock the boy. Sighing heavily, Draco banged on the heavy wooden door.

"Mummy! Drackins is here!" The little voice from the other side of the door was unmistakably Fatua's. The door swung open, revealing the short girl with the adorably pudgy face. She reminded Draco of an unattractive Muggle porcelain doll he had seen while walking with his mother along a Muggle London street one afternoon.

Draco tried to pry the girl's sweaty hand off of his when she flung herself at him. "Daddy is out for the night paying a visit to your father. Mummy and I are here if you need help. I know lots about vampires if you need help!"

"I believe I'll be fine by myself, but thank you for your suggestion." Fatua left Draco in the library, not even telling him where the books on vampires would be. It was an impressive library with hundreds of shelves containing thousands of books. Some looked as if they hadn't been used in hundreds of years. He didn't doubt that, either.

After several minutes of browsing (at one point, he had to hold himself back from running when he saw the title _How to Torture Your Guest With 100% Legal Magic_), Draco sighed. "This is getting me no where. _Accio_, Vampire books!"

From shelves all over the library came dozens of books, some with thin bindings, and others as large as half an encyclopedia collections, all headed straight towards Draco. He braced himself as each book hit him, falling to the floor with small to rather large thuds. When it was over, Draco was left standing rather crookedly and bruised. "Ow."

Once he had arranged the books in three neat piles, Draco picked up a quill pen off of one of the desks and began his work.

"'The liquid dripped by the Bloodstone can only be contained by a crystal goblet so rare that only the head of all vampires has the substance. No one knows _who_ or _where_ the head of vampires lives, but there have been rumored sightings in Transylvania, Bulgaria, Czechoslovakia, the Sahara Desert, and less than one hundred years ago...'" Draco paused. "This sounds awfully familiar. Where have I heard this before?"

He shook his head. "Ah, here we go. 'The Bloodstone liquid is said to heal all vampires except for a select few. Those born vampires cannot be healed. Those made into vampires by the Nosferatu cannot be healed [See Chapter 107 for information as to being born a Nosferatu]." (According to Chapter 107, Nosferatu vampires were created by a pregnant mother being bitten, and the baby was born that species of vampire.) "Those who have been vampires for one hundred or more years are very difficult to transubstantiate back into human form, but it is possible if the Bloodstone's substance is given to them directly from the Vampire Leader.' Wow, and people actually believe this stuff."

An hour or so later, Draco found himself completely immersed in the Vampire belief system of both Muggles and the Magical communities. Many of the ideas were similar, but of course, only true Witches and Wizards were correct in their faiths. How would a Muggles know anything?

"'The Vampire Leader is said to keep a Port Key in his dwellings in order to have access to a world unknown to any non-vampiric being. The actual form is unknown, but is rumored to be very antediluvian, one amongst many other objects like it.' What the hell does that mean?"

Once he had finished two feet of his report, Draco yawned. It was well past ten o'clock at night, he figured, and wanted to be home, as he had just returned today and needed to become reacquainted with his bedroom. The familiar surroundings would most definitely make him feel better.

"You're leaving?" Fatua stood at the door of the library.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" Draco gathered his papers and quills.

"Daddy has more books if you want. Please stay, Dracie!" Fatua's round eyes watered, and she began to sob.

"Oh, cut the crocodile tears," Draco said. "I'm tired, and I'm just about finished with my report. I don't need any more books. Tell your parents thank you for allowing me to use their library." And he was gone, leaving Fatua crying to herself. She stopped as soon as he was out of view, and went back upstairs to bed.

Finally, Draco was able to throw himself on his own bed and fall into a blissful sleep. When he woke up the next morning, images of a dream bundled up with the information he had acquired the night before came back to him. He dreamed the leader of the vampires was his father, and he was forced to obey Lucius's every command.

At breakfast, Draco couldn't help but laugh when he saw his father. Lucius's gaunt face, pale blonde hair and light blue eyes certainly did make him seem otherworldly. Then Draco stopped, both because his father met his eye, and that he was the spitting image of Lucius. Quickly, he went back to his food.

Several minutes of silence went by before Lucius spoke up. "We've been thinking about what to get you for your birthday, son."

"What've you come up with this year?"

"We figure you've had enough broomsticks for one lifetime. Besides, you are doing very well with your Nimbus Two Thousand and Two, I hear. You have all the dress robes you need, but you do not get out nearly enough."

Draco placed his fork down. "What are you saying, father?"

Narcissa spoke up. "Instead of the traditional birthday gift, we thought that it would be nice to bring you somewhere, wherever you wish, for your birthday. Of course, it will have to be during the summer, and you may bring a friend-"

"Crabbe and Goyle."

"_A_ friend, Draco. We cannot handle both Vincent and Gregory at the same time. You may bring one of them, and perhaps later on the other one. I've always liked Gregory more, he seemed to be the more intelligent one. Wonderful family."

"How can I only choose one of them, Mother? They are _both_ my friends. Even if I eventually take one later on, he'll think I favor the other one more. Although, I doubt Crabbe will be able to see that far... It's the connotation, Mother. You're making me choose which friend I like better."

"Or," Lucius interrupted, "you can go alone, or not at all. We can simply get you another dress robe this year, or perhaps an antique broom."

Draco sighed. "I'll think it over. I've always wanted to go to Egypt and visit the Magic Underworld. I hear they are very interesting."

Lucius snorted. "They are fools, if you ask me. All those years they spent trying to fix up that Sphinx so the Muggles would think they did a good job, and they chipped the nose off the thing! Ah well, that's what you get for trying to help a worthless Muggle. Not too brilliant in my view. All those stories Muggles came up with over the years, and the answer was right under their noses! If you'll pardon the pun."

Muggles, Muggles, Muggles. Lucius's favorite topic. It was a debatable topic, but in the Malfoy house, Muggles were bad and Wizards were good. Muggles should be eliminated by the Wizards. Wizards should dominate the world. Always the same.

School wouldn't be starting for almost a week. Even seven days at Hogwarts seemed shorter than this. Perhaps he should have stayed at school after all. At least he had Christmas to look forward to.


	11. Draco Malfoy and the Bloodstone Chapter ...

**From Ti'ana:** I didn't enjoy writing this chapter, so it's not going to be as good as the rest [which weren't that good either] or as long as I can tell. I only wrote this because I _had_ to. I promise, the next chapter is better -.-;

_Draco Malfoy_  
And the Bloodstone  
__ _ _ _ _By Ti'ana_

_Chapter Eleven  
_**To Ride a Silver Broomstick**

The afternoon of Christmas day was spent up in Draco's room. His father had guests coming over, and didn't want Draco to be a nuisance. He waited a while before opening so he'd have something to look forward to. Just as he started to open what appeared to be another dress robe, a sharp knock echoed through his room.

"DRACO!" Uh-oh.

"Come in, Father."

Before Draco could ask what Lucius wanted, he had broken the lock on the door with a not-well-planned-out charm, which caused the door to fall to the floor. "What is this notice of detention about?"

_It's Christmas! What are they trying to do to me?!_ "Oh, I got into some trouble at school, it's not big deal. Everyone gets detention every now and then. Even-"

"No excuses!" Narcissa Malfoy was close behind Lucius. "You punched a girl? And she has detention as well? What _were_ you thinking?"

"I don't know," he answered softly. "I just don't know. It's not like she didn't hit me, I was only acting in defense." The glare in his parents' eyes showed them they didn't trust him. "I didn't... Father, I li-"

"No excuses!" Lucius's pale face reddened more than Draco thought possible. His sallow complexion never flushed more than a pink rosebud. At complete loss for words, he stormed out, leaving Narcissa to speak to Draco.

"Mother," he whispered, as if searching for some sense of comfort. She was always the more rational one, but her eyes showed the same displeased look Lucius was so famous for.

"Of all the shameful acts, you've sunken lower than I have ever seen you, Draco Malfoy." She shook her head, a tiny smile forming on her lips. "You are just like Lucius. I had hoped you'd have turned out a bit more like me."

"Why are you comparing me to father? He never hit a woman, did he?"

"Once," she thought back. "In school. A girl named Lily I believe. Yes, that's who it was. In their sixth year, Lucius asked her to the Yule Ball, and she agreed to go with him. A Slytherin/Gryffindor couple was an odd sight. Well, Lucius lost his temper with James, another Gryffindor resident, who asked to dance with her. When she came back after the dance, Lucius told her he was right in never trusting Gryffindors, that the rivalry between houses should remain as such. James defended Lily, and the two engaged in one of the worst wizarding duels I had ever seen. Thankfully, Albus Dumbledore stepped in before they killed each other." Narcissa paused, and closed her eyes. "He turned to Lily to say something awful, I suppose, and she... she-" His mother laughed a bit. "Spit in his eye. Lucius is a proud man, and he slapped her with such force, dear Lily fell right back into James. It was an awful sight. He served three months' detention, and even after that, most of his friends, even Slytherins, strayed away from him. I suppose that isolation made him more vulnerable to Tom Riddle's influence."

"Tom Riddle? I've never heard that name before." Draco's eyes widened. "Lord Voldemort?"

Narcissa hardened her gaze. "You will never let it out that your father willingly went along with You-Know-Who and his band of Death Eaters. He made a mistake, and as we speak, is probably still making it. I don't know what he and his former Death Eater friends do, I'm not allowed to attend dinner with them. I'm not pointing fingers, but You-Know-Who's return back in your first year probably had to do with some of them, your father excluded.

"Oh," she added, before leaving Draco's bedchamber, "I still have to give you your present. Just a moment."

It was several minutes before Narcissa returned to Draco. In that time, Draco had many mixed feelings, mostly towards his father. _Lily and James. James and Lily. James... James Potter! So that's why Father told me to avoid Harry Potter! He was jealous, jealous that James got the girl and he lost her. Harry'll probably beat _me_ for telling him my father hit his mother_. He stifled a laugh.

"I bought these while your father was occupied," Narcissa explained. "So he doesn't know yet." She handed Draco two wrapped packages. "I used my old family account, so he won't notice I've taken any money out. You know how meticulous he is about those sorts of things. Well, enjoy, darling."

Greedily, but carefully, Draco pulled the paper off the smaller box. He squealed like a child when he removed the contents.

A broom kit and a copy of _Quidditch Throughout the Ages_! Draco had one of those when he first started playing Quidditch at Hogwarts, but his father had accidentally blown it up in a fit of rage when he found out about Draco's hurt arm last year. At least the anger wasn't directed at Draco, because if that had happened, it would be he that was swept up by a house elf into a dustpan and thrown out with nary a second thought.

Draco's first instinct was to grab his Nimbus, sand and polish the handle, clip the excess tail and test it out in their giant yard, then he remembered he had one present left to open. Even though this new kit would inspire him to win the next Quidditch match, it would be nice to see what else he received. Who knows, perhaps it was better than the kit?

He picked the long, thin package and ripped the paper slowly. His jaw dropped to the floor. There, in his very bedroom, was the newest model of specially-made Quidditch brooms. _The Firebolt Two Thousand_. It was the single most beautiful piece of wood ever hand-crafted by man. Sleek, smooth and lightweight, it would be the topic of conversation amongst Hogwarts students for many weeks before and after the next match. The silver-tinted wood added to its already majestic appearance.

The Firebolt 2000 hovered in the air, supported only by Draco's intense gaze on his own delicately carved name. "Draco Malfoy, Slytherin Seeker." On either side, a snake, the Slytherin animal, was carved with extreme care. It couldn't have been more than an inch long, and wrapped halfway around the handle. Remembering the Firebolt series was hand-numbered, Draco looked at the end nearest the tail end. He was surprised to see the number was below fifty, meaning it was one of the first in the series! Loads of money can get you almost anything, but luck gave you the finer things, in this case, one of the first Firebolt 2000 specialty Quidditch brooms.

No doubt, he would have to brag to Potter about this. Carefully, though. Before last week, Draco could easily put Harry down in one hundred ways and not feel a tinge of remorse. After their talk about Invisibility Cloaks and Lisha, then hearing about what Lucius did to Lily, it would be near impossible to insult him without regretting it. Draco remembered Lucius had once been involved with the group who had aided in the death of Harry's parents, which made him feel awful at this moment for taunting him about not going home over the holidays, about not being loved by the family he had about having to live with a Muggle family, about not having parents.

Never mind Harry for now. The Firebolt Two Thousand was rested on Draco's bed now. His mind averted to something else: Lisha. But not only Lisha, Lisha and Professor Snape. Twice he had heard Snape tell Lisha to meet him after class the last week before vacation. Both times Draco had to cover his head with his pillow at night so he wouldn't be tempted to go after Lisha. What _were_ they doing? The thought made him sick, as it had many times before. According to Goyle, Lisha was remaining at the school for the week. Professor Snape was staying there as well...

"Ah, stop this!" Draco hit his head with his palm. For a brief moment, he was reminded of Dobby, his old house elf. Dobby would hit himself whenever he had done something wrong. "Only a few more days, just a few more days..."

***

"Contrary to popular belief, the age-old practice of driving a stake into the heart of a vampire worked only because vampires could die in many of the ways a Muggle or wizard could. They were immortal, but not invincible. Also, a vampire turning to stone, melting or disintegrating in the sun was simply an act to dissuade Muggles from coming around their lairs any longer. Garlic as well does not ward off vampires, although if they are anything like a normal person, they'd avoid it nevertheless."

Draco erased the last bit of the final sentence. Only one more day until he had to return to school, and he had been so busy with his new Firebolt he had completely forgotten about the report. He had about half a foot to write before he was finished, and if he wrote big, he'd be finished by nightfall.

Draco thought of his father again. What if he was the vampire leader? The idea was possible. If his father was dumb enough to join Lord Voldemort willingly, most likely there was something wrong with his moralities, and it may be because he had lead thousands of vampires worldwide, many of which weren't registered, as they were supposed to be. It would make Draco almost as famous as Harry Potter if it was found out he, Draco, had been born to the most notorious vampire in the magical world and had never been bitten, much less born a vampire. The only difference between the most common species of vampire and a magical person or Muggle was that they craved blood to survive. Oh, sure, they ate the normal foods in public, but at night they would hunt for victims, killing them or leaving the helpless men and women ill with anemia.

But how does one kill a vampire? That was one of the questions in the assignment. Professor Blodsucan had mentioned that if you find a vampire, kill it on the spot. Draco hadn't found why someone should do this, or more importantly, _how_. Innately evil as he was, he had never dreamed of killing someone, even though he preached death to Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers publicly in his second year at Hogwarts. He hadn't run across a vampire yet and, hopefully, would never have to worry about killing one!


	12. Draco Malfoy and the Bloodstone Chapter ...

malfoyz12

**From Ti'ana:** *huffpuff* I've been meaning to write this chapter for a long time. I've had it planned out since before I even started writing DMatB! I must say, though, I'm not as proud of it as I should be. Sorry it took forever, but the entire thing's about 17 book pages long. Please review, no matter what!

_Draco Malfoy_  
And the Bloodstone  
__ _ _ _ _By Ti'ana_

_Chapter Twelve  
_

Draco had never been happier to be back at school. The week at home had dragged on so long he had not even paid attention to his beautiful home! Even after almost fifteen years of living at the Malfoy Mansion, he never tired of traveling around the house. He always seemed to find something new and interesting.

Then again, if he wanted interesting, Hogwarts certainly was intriguing!

Crabbe and Goyle weren't in the room when Draco arrived. Instead, he saw Peeves sitting on his bed. The colorfully-dressed poltergeist smiled widely when he saw Draco. Promptly, he zipped off, ruffling the blankets, as he flew over to Draco's head. He began ruffling the boy's silvery blond hair.

"It is the veela boy!" Peeves exclaimed. "Pretty, pretty, veela boy!" He ignored Draco's hand, swatting at Peeves's faces, which always seemed just out of the way. "The muddy-cruddy-Bloody Baron's not in the tower now, Peeves can have all the fun he wants!" He yanked a few strands of hair from Draco's head before blinking out.

The area on his scalp from which Peeves had pulled the hair out from throbbed with pain, but Draco struggled to ignore it. The first thing he had to do: visit Professor Snape and inquire about his detention.

Traveling down the halls of Hogwarts, Draco took in everything. He missed being here, even though he was gone for only a week. At least here he could be himself, whoever that was, for at home he had to put up a front for his father's friends.

He rapped a few times on Snape's door and waited a minute or so. No answer.He tried again.

"Professor Snape?"

Someone walked up from behind, and said in a flat tone, "He's not here."

Draco jumped up and whirled around. Peering at him with a vindictive loathing came from none other than Lisha Luralby. "Ah... I see. What are you doing by his office, then?"

"None of your business," she said nastily. "I'd be very careful with myself if I were you, Malfoy. Remember, detention is being held in the Forbidden Forest. I may accidentally feed you to a giant spider to save my own neck."

"Good. So when you're attacked by it I won't feel so bad when I run off laughing." He stuck his nose in the air and pompously strutted off. Every time he was near that girl, all the things he felt for her dissipated. When he saw her from a distance, he couldn't help but sigh. As soon as he was out of earshot, he breathed out heavily.

"Difficult week back at home, Mister Malfoy?" Professor Blodsucan blocked his way. "I hope most of it was spent researching for your vampire essay due tomorrow? I'd hate to see my on of my best students fall behind to slack off for only one week."

"Hardly, sir. I spent a lot of time looking stuff up, but I couldn't find a lot of the information I really needed. I hope you don't mind, I did as much as I could." This was the only way he could think of to suck up to the teacher.

"No trouble at all. I didn't expect everyone to find everything individually. A real lesson on vampires is yet to come. You won't find a book titled _How to Kill a Vampire_ on a bookstore shelf." He added, nonchalantly, "The only way to kill a vampire is with the unicorn's blood that would heal a normal person." Blodsucan paused, and scanned Draco's face. "I can see by the look on your face that I wasn't who you were waiting for. That's all right."

"I was just looking for-"

"Professor Snape is currently in the Gryffindor tower, I believe. He went to visit Professor McGonagall to speak about your detention. She was... busy tending to an accident your friend Neville Longbottom had caused. Awfully funny situation from what I heard. Accidentally turned one of the student's hair green while attempting to transfigure a napkin into a completed homework assignment."Blodsucan chuckled, but Draco felt he was doing it to be more convincing. The situation wasn't _that_ funny. It reminded Draco of when Lisha had used the Herba Charm on his hand.

"Ah, how did you know I... never mind. Thank you, Professor Blodsucan." Draco rushed down the hall. Something about the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher frightened him still. Then again, Draco Malfoy wasn't the fearless Slytherin pureblooded he played himself out to be in front of others. Just as easily as Lucius Malfoy could standing before the Ministry of Magic after he had been accused of using on of the Unforgivable Curses, or misusing magic in some form, Draco could easily put up a calm, yet tough and believable façade. This was one of the most valuable lessons he had learned from his father.  
Rushing down the never-ending corridor with these thoughts on his mind, it was simply a matter of time before he ran headfirst into an unsuspecting student.

After crying out in surprise, Draco muttered to himself, "Why all the sudden appearances of Hogwarts members all around me?"

"Well, Malfoy, if you had conceivably paid attention to where you were headed, you wouldn't have to worry about these spontaneous materialization of wizards left and right, would you now?"

"You know," said another voice, similar to the first, "it isn't healthy for a teenage boy to be talking to himself. I think Saint Mungo's was looking for a fair-haired patient who escaped, oh... four years ago? Admitted for talking to himself, I think."

"Nah," said the other. "I think he was admitted by his parents. They've got enough money to board you there, don't they?"

"Unlike you, Weasleys," Draco sneered. Fred and George stood over Draco, who still lay sprawled on the floor, with their usual mischievous grins. "Your parents would probably have to sell their house and use Potter's full Gringotts account to pay off debts before they can even afford to rent a decent room at the Leaky Cauldron."

"That hurts," said the Weasley in the sweater with the F knitted on the front. Apparently, Fred. "Well, Malfoy, don't worry. We won't take it to heart. Besides, we've got information against you, so don't try anything you'll regret."

"Uh-huh," snickered George. "Surprised you mentioned Harry in front of us in the first place, Malfoy."

Draco's pale face blanched even worse. He had completely forgotten about his conversation with Harry before he left for home. With a mumbled apology and quickly gathering himself up, Draco rushed down the hall.

_Thump_. "Oh, who is it now-" Draco stopped short. Just above eye-level stood the Deputy Headmistress herself, eyes piercing with intensity through her half-moon glasses.

"Is there a problem, Mister Malfoy?"

"No," Draco answered quickly. "No problem, Professor. I was just looking for Professor Snape."

"Tomorrow, Malfoy." Professor McGonagall removed her glasses and wiped them with the sleeve of her long robe. "Three hours after your last class, to give you time for homework. You will report to Hagrid's cabin immediately, if you know what's good for you. It gets dark early this time of year, and I'd hate to have to send you into the woods alone."

Draco grimaced. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. The last time he was in the Forbidden Forest wasn't a pleasant gala, and he had been right on time that occasion.

"Besides that," she continued, "you will be suspended from the Slytherin-Ravenclaw Quidditch match next Wednesday. That is, if you think you'll be able to control your anger this time." Her eyes narrowed.

"Yes ma'am."

"Very good. Return to your dormitory, it's almost time for lights-out. You've missed dinner, unfortunately, but I presume you ate on the train? Good." She continued walking down the hall past Draco, the steady "click-click" of her heels growing increasingly louder as she walked away. Draco figured this was just a trick being played by the castle. (It _did_ have a tendency to do that.)

Draco saw Professor Snape the next morning during Potions for the first time since school let out for vacation. He seemed a bit different, a little more skittish than before. When a hole melted through Neville's cauldron (which it had done once bimonthly) with a loud sucking noise, Snape jumped a few feet. Besides the fact Snape would remain stationary if a werewolf were howling in his face, he didn't bother to scold the shivering Neville, much less take points from Gryffindor.

Lisha seemed different as well. Dark circles surrounded her eyes, and Draco noticed she could barely hold a crystal beaker steady. Her edge certainly hadn't wavered.

"What _are_ you staring at, Malfoy?"

"Space, but your oversized head kept getting in the way," he sneered. He hadn't even thought about what he had said, it just flowed so easily, he didn't even bother pondering it.

Lisha stifled a laugh. She poured a blue, wispy substance (which was more gas than liquid) into her cauldron, when the glass container slipped from her shaky fingers. It broke into hundreds of tiny shards on the desktop, but the blue stuff didn't spread. Snape jumped at the noise. When he found the source of the commotion, he rushed over to Lisha. In a hushed tone, he asked her quickly if she was all right. She didn't reply.

"Come see me after your last class today, before you head over to the cabin for your detention. I have... something that may interest you." He nodded, confirming his own statement.

Lisha's eyes widened as she drew in her breath quickly. "Did you finally convince-"

"Back to work, Luralby," he ordered in a nasty, loud tone. He whipped his robes behind him and stalked back to the front of the room.

"Well," Draco said flatly, his eyes still on his cauldron, "he didn't seem to happy to see you this time."

"This time?" Draco could see past the confused look pasted on Lisha's face. "What do you mean?"

"Don't play stupid, Lisha, even I know you are smarter than that." It was the first time he had called her strictly by first name. The idea didn't seem to bother Lisha at all, though Draco was a bit disturbed.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," she said firmly.

Without thinking, Draco blurted out, "I followed you."

The girl's eyes widened a bit, but the expression on her face changed not a bit. "Where did you follow me to?"

"Snape's office. A while ago. I wanted to see what was up, so I borrowed something from Potter and went after you. And I don't regret it, I don't feel sorry and I'm not going to tell you I wasn't thinking."

"Well, you've figured me out," Lisha said softly.

"Damn right I did. Don't get me too angry in the future, Luralby, because I've got something against you. And if you do, I'll head straight to Dumbledore and McGonagall, you'll be expelled and Snape'll be fired. How do you like that?"

"You're going to have an innocent man fired because you hate _me_?"

_No_. "Yes. You're no better than a veela. You're a Lolita, and if you do anything to irk me further, I'll let everyone in the school know."

Lisha looked away. Until then, her gaze was firmly planted on Draco's face. He didn't realize until she moved her eyes. "You're awful, Draco. I have never done anything to you. Think back to the first time I stepped foot on the train in almost three years. All I wanted was to be accepted again, like I was when I was a normal first year. I tried to be civil." She shrugged, watching Snape dismiss the class. Draco stood up as she continued. "Just remember this. You can't tell anyone anything about Severus and me if you have an accident in the woods this afternoon."

At least it was a Wednesday. He didn't have to see Hagrid more than he needed to. He headed off to Herbology with Crabbe and Goyle close behind him. Just like the good old days. Goyle had been hanging around Lisha less and less in the past few weeks. Draco was unsure about their friendship while he was home for the vacation, but he had no interest in it.

The end of the day came much quicker than Draco had hoped for. He certainly wasn't looking forward to playing in the Forbidden Forest. What was wrong now? Last time, unicorns were found dead left and right. Maybe that giant spider Draco overheard Ron crying about two years ago was on a rampage. Draco didn't doubt that Lisha would abandon him to such an awful creature, and the thought did not sit well in the pit of his stomach.

Making sure his wand was in easy grabbing distance just in case he came across some dangerous creature, Draco began heading towards Hagrid's cabin. He was a few minutes early, but it would be less awkward if he didn't wait to see Lisha coming.

Hagrid stood at least twice as tall as a normal man, and about three times as wide. Draco figured he must have been part giant, for no normal wizard was that large. Even Fang, Hagrid's oversized dog, looked small compared to him. The dog growled as Draco approached, and the fur on his necked bristled.

_Just be pleasant,_ Draco told himself. _Smile, yes like that. Good boy, Dracs_. "Hello, Hagrid."

Hagrid looked surprised at Malfoy's courteous greeting, but nodded a hello and smiled a bit behind his bushy beard. "Ready fer yer task t'night?"

"What do we have to do?"

"Ah... Hold on I'll tell ye. Lisha!" he called. "Yer friend is here!"

Lisha peaked out from behind the door of Hagrid's cabin. Her face had more color in it than during Potions, and she appeared more lighthearted than before. That is, before she saw Draco. "Are we ready to go?"

"Yup," Hagrid answered. "Now, Professor McGonagall says I ain't allowed to help ye, I gotta stay here. I told 'er she's crazy, but she's stickin' to her guns. Didn' say nothin' about lettin' you have Fang, though." Draco winced when the dog turned his head towards him and licked his muzzle.

"But what are we doing?""Hold on, Malfoy, I'm gettin' there. Anyway, we've been havin' another stream of unicorn massacres." Hagrid shook his head. "Awful git that must be doin' it. I have a feelin' though it's fer a different purpose. The killin's a bit diff'ernt. Fang'll protect you for the most part, but you gotta be prepared." He handed the leash to Lisha. "Good luck. I'll be waitin' out here. Red sparks if yer in trouble, green if ye've found somethin'. We're lookin' fer injured animals, now. I'll come after ye for both. And good luck," he repeated.

Hagrid watched the two as they entered the forest very carefully. Him being so wary frightened Draco. _Don't run away this time,_ Draco told himself. _Just don't run away..._

"Watch for that," Lisha whispered.

Draco looked down. He narrowly missed stepping in an oversized hole, which seemed to have been freshly dug.

"What do you suppose that's for?" Draco saw Lisha entangling her fingers in Fang's leash.

"To catch unicorns," Draco suggested sarcastically.

"Might be. Or us," she added.

"Why would anyone want to catch us?"

"We're on to them. I have a feeling I know who we're dealing with." Lisha's voice was softer than it had ever been.

"Who?"

Before she could answer, a horrible scream echoed throughout the forest. It sounded as if someone was being tortured beyond humanity. Draco cringed; it was awful and heart piercing, a sound he could never forget.

"Unicorn," Lisha whispered. "Their swan song is so pitiful. It's meant to put an everlasting guilt in their murderer's heart. But if the thing killing the unicorn is what I think it is, there won't be any effect."

"What do you think it is?" Draco inched closer to Lisha and Fang, clutching his wand. Fang began to growl loudly. He pushed his side against Draco, as if he were attempting to hide himself.

"Look behind you!" Lisha shouted. The way she said it was so familiar, Draco hesitated before turning.

For a moment, Draco didn't realize what he was looking at. It appeared to be a hole in the air; he couldn't see behind it, but he could see to the left and right, top and bottom. There was simply nothing there.

Then it took a definite form. Whatever it was, it was awful. At first, he thought it was the giant spider, but even in the dark, he could clearly distinguish four legs, two arms coming out from its chest and a head. It had two eyes much too large for its face, both of which were simply black pools with horizontal pupils, like those of goats. There were two antler protruding from its visible skull, and a jaw without skin that hung as if it had disjointed itself, similar to a snake when it was eating something too large for its mouth. The creature had a thin form. Its ribs stuck out of its sides.

"What is that?" Draco asked nervously, down on his knees and holding a petrified Fang around the neck. "A demonic reindeer?"

"Somewhere along those lines," Lisha answered, reaching for her wand. "It's a demon summoned by someone out to do something they would never do themselves. Like-"

"Like killing unicorns," Draco finished.

"Precisely. They aren't affected. They don't have emotions or their own will. They just obey."

The demon reared its head back and bellowed. Fang bolted, dropping Draco to the floor. Lisha raised her right arm in the air, red sparks sputtering towards the sky from her wand. Her eyes wide, she turned to Draco. "Run!"

Adrenaline pumping harder than it ever had before in his life, Draco felt as if he could sprint three miles before feeling any pain in his calves. Fear consumed his entire being, and escaping that fear was his main priority. He refused to turn around and see if the demon was following them.

"Get in the tree," Lisha ordered. "Climb the tree!"

Draco obeyed, still not thinking. He tried to resist turning, but he couldn't. He saw Lisha scrambling up the same tree he was in, much faster, then he saw the demon. It was at the base of the tree, barking.

"My leg," Draco yelped. He had scraped it along a thorn jutting from the bark and had caught on to his robe. He yanked, but it wouldn't come undone. The demon below sprang up, its arms on the tree, and grabbed Draco's robes in its mouth. He kicked his leg furiously until it came loose. The demon howled loudly.

"Draco!" Lisha yelled, and climbed down to his level. In a calm voice, she said softly, "Draco, listen to me. On the count of three, we're going to jump out of the tree. No matter what happens, you keep running."

"Why is this thing after us?" Draco clung to the tree for dear life.

"It's not after you," she replied in a shaking voice. "Tell me you'll keep going, that you won't turn back."

"Turn back and face that thing? Don't worry. No use in telling me twice." His expression was serious for a moment, and then he smiled warily. "Are you ready?"

She grinned. "Nope. One... Two... Three!"

Before he was able to think, Draco was hurtling towards the ground below quicker than Viktor Krum on a Firebolt. The impact with which he hit the ground was painful, especially because he landed on the injured leg, but he tried to remain numb to it. _Run_, he thought, and without thinking was headed back to Hagrid's cabin. He turned his head quickly, hair whipping against his face to see if Lisha was right behind him. She wasn't, neither was the stupid demonic reindeer.

Draco stopped short. "Lisha?" No response. He didn't expect one, but at the sound of a shrill voice of a young girl scream, he cried, "Lisha!" As fast as his feet could carry him, ignoring the throbbing pain in his left leg, he sprinted back in the direction he had come from

Lisha was backed up against a large tree, hidden as far back as she could in the roots which rose approximately six feet in the air. The demon was bellowing and sticking his clawed forearms towards her, its four feet scratching the ground as if it were going to attack. Of course, there was no doubt it would.

Lisha's eyes were planted intensely hard on the devil, but when she heard Draco's footsteps, they flickered towards him, gratefully, though she yelled at him to get back.

_It's not after you_, he remembered her saying. _She could have said us_, he thought. _But she didn't. Does that mean it's after her?_ Watching the beast tearing at the roots of the tree towards Lisha, completely ignoring the clearly-visible Draco was enough to verify his apprehensions. Why her?

_I'm sorry I lied_, the strange voice said in Draco's mind. _Why_, he thought. _Who is this?_

Lisha's scream pierced Draco's ears with such intensity he covered his ears. It was inhuman in a sense, so shrill with a slight trill. Hearing her, though, brought him to realization: the mysterious voice during the Quidditch match which warned him about Harry Potter's technique was indeed the same voice which filled his head with an apology. It was the same voice which had preached hatred towards Draco all year. The same voice which, multiple times, had gotten him in trouble... The same voice he had fallen in love with.

Lost temporarily in his own thoughts, Draco's attention to Lisha had averted from the tree she was backed against, something which proved dangerous. Lisha still stood with her back to the tree, but the demon had disappeared. Without thinking, he rushed over to Lisha and grabbed both of her shoulders tightly.

"Are you all right?" he asked quickly, shaking her slightly.

Lisha's eyes were wide with horror. "Why did you come back? Malfoy, you're in danger! You must get out of here." When she saw there was no persuading him, she sighed. "Please, Draco. I don't want to see you hurt; I can handle it. I promise."

A strange feeling swept over Draco, one which convinced him that, if he didn't leave now, Lisha would be in more danger than if he were here protecting her. Reluctantly, he began to walk away, eyes on the ground.

The demon reappeared. Faster than Draco's mind was able to comprehend, he was being held seven feet from the ground in the arms of the treacherous beast. The demon's hot, sour breath brushed his cheeks as it let out a horrifying roar. Everything that was happening tonight seemed much too unbelievable and repetitive. Mortal peril, epiphany of life, mortal peril, a burst of feeling, mortal peril....

The pompous, self-centered character inside Draco was shouting, _Do you have any idea who you are dealing with? I am a _Malfoy_!_ The rational Draco, which had only manifested this year, gave the unsolicited response, _What are you saying? You're about to die, do something! Point and shoot, it worked against Davies!_ Draco groped for his wand, He was slowly losing breath, as the gnarled hands of the demon closed ever-so-deliberately around his neck. Gasping, he rummaged through his pocket with the hand he wasn't using to evade attack, closed his fingers around the thin wand, and....

Fell. Breathing deeply to make up for the air he had lost, Draco looked up to see the demon clawing at its eyes. _I thought it couldn't feel_, he said to himself. _What happened?_ He remembered hearing a soft voice, muffled by the blood pounding in his ears as life began to slip away from Draco.

"_Lux Sancti!_" It was Lisha, and she lowered her wand, and hurried over to Draco. She had used a Charm he read about vaguely in his second year at Hogwarts, but he could not recall much about it. Whatever it was, worked, but not for very long.

"Draco, you can't stay here!" She grabbed him by the collar of his robes and pulled him to his feet. "Get back to the cabin!"

"I'm not going to leave you!" was his answer.

"Don't you know what that thing is?" Lisha didn't wait for his response. "Why are you doing this?"

Without thinking, Draco blurted, "Because I care about you!"

"You're an idiot, Malfoy." She let go of his collar, disgusted with his blatant exposure of feeling, but her deep brown eyes seemed ever-so-slightly brighter.

The demon was back on its feet, saliva dripping down its jaw line as it lumbered towards them. _There is no way we're going to escape that thing._ Draco stood bravely in front of Lisha, and she watched horrified over his shoulder. He thought he heard a faint barking noise in the distance, but paid it no heed. _No way in hell_. He turned around and faced Lisha.

_I'm sorry_, he mouthed, and wrapped his arms tightly around her. She stiffened, then settled for a moment. She did not return the embrace. The noise of the demon's blundering footsteps were getting closer and closer until...

Lisha cried out in desperation and shoved Draco away as hard as she could. It was not intentional, but Draco was pushed headfirst into the trunk of a wide tree, and the world shadowed over with a thick blanket of darkness as he slowly lost consciousness, the barking in the distance getting louder until he heard no sound at all.


	13. Draco Malfoy and the Bloodstone Chapter ...

malfoy

AN: Don't kill me! I know three people ready to attack because it's taken me so long to get this chapter out! it's pathetic... it took me so long to write this but it's short! I _really_ don't like the way this chapter came out. Expect the next chapter out soon; the whole story IS almost over!!

_Draco Malfoy_  
And the Bloodstone  
__ _ _ _ _By Ti'ana_

_Chapter Thirteen_

__

Minutes, hours, days passed; Draco wasn't sure of the time that had passed since his last conscious thought. He awoke in the darkened room he immediately recognized as part of the hospital wing. Outside his draped bed, he heard voices arguing in barely a whisper, but to one who had not heard a sound in such a long time (however long that may be), it was as if they were speaking in normal tones.

"Something just doesn't make sense! Think about it, Albus. When was the last time one of those... those _monsters_ appeared anywhere remotely near Hogwarts? And since then, we have taken every possible precaution to avoid that mistake again. We've failed!"

"It's a terrible thing, Severus, I agree. It is very unlikely that she could even..."

Professor Snape's voice rose a bit. "I'm not saying she did! In fact, the possibility that she _would_ do something like that is absurd! She'd understand the consequences, and know that whatever she did would backfire on her."

Draco assumed the "her" they were speaking about to be Lisha, considering the circumstances. What they were saying, though, was beyond him. He strained his ears to listen more clearly.

"Then who is it?" This was another voice, grainy and monotonous: Professor Blodsucan.

Snape's voice was harsh as he answered, "If we knew that, Flavius, we would not be discussing the matter, now, would we?" An awkward silence followed.

Finally, Professor Blodsucan spoke, bringing up another topic. "I should go send word to the parents about the children."

Snape's voice responded quickly in his usual raucous mood. "Perhaps I should-"

"If you'll excuse me, Professors," Madam Pomfrey interrupted, exasperated, "but I am in the midst of treating two very injured young students, and you are disrupting my work. So please, leave the hospital wing and find some place more appropriate for these matters."

"Of course, Poppy. Yes, let's head to my office. Severus, Flavius. I'll try to persuade Minerva to help solve this mystery as well." Dumbledore's voice was more cheery. "Let's go."

Draco kept his eyes shut until he was sure Madam Pomfrey as well had left. Cautiously, he sat up and moved towards the end of the bed. Every muscle in his body ached as he shifted. Most likely from the fall, as it hadn't hurt much at the time, like a person who feels the aftereffects of running three miles the next morning, with no desiring to leave bed. But Draco knew he must.

Draco's main priority was to see how Lisha was fairing. She had, after all, taken the worst of the situation; that is, if what Draco had imagined happened after he blacked out did indeed occur. Madam Pomfrey had said there were two students she was taking care of, so at least he knew she was still alive... or barely.

What about his parents? Surely, they will receive news of this by tomorrow. Special service owls were sent out for such important events like this one. Narcissa and Lucius would most likely attempt persuade Draco to leave school for the rest of the year, but he would wind up staying nonetheless. 

Quietly, Draco edged off the bed and sucked in his breath as he put his hands on the curtain. He peeked out, making sure Madam Pomfrey was no where to be seen, and stepped from behind the curtain. The bright light that hit his eyes hurt for a brief moment. The bed across from him was thickly curtained as well. Draco bit his lip, stepped toward it, and cautiously opened it.

There was no change in expression when Draco saw the girl laying on the bed in front of him. For moment, he thought he had stumbled on some other injured student, but he realized that was stupid. Two horrible accidents like the one that had occurred to Draco and Lisha could happen simultaneously. No, this horribly bruised, broken body before him was indeed Lisha Luralby. Besides her unusually pale skin (which was a slightly green color), the veins that stuck out from the thin epidermal layerwere an odd and purplish.She didn't even look human, but she was undoubtedly Lisha. It was difficult to process, that the girl he cared for so looked like an cadaverous monster. 

Fighting back a stream of tears and swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, Draco moved closer to Lisha and placed his hand on hers. Unsurprisingly, her hand was like ice.

A soft voice rasped behind him. "What are you doing?"

Draco turned his head quickly. "I'm sorry, Madam Pomfrey. I was just— I mean, I was worried and I—"

Madam Pomfrey shook her head sadly. "I understand. You two went through a lot together earlier."

"Earlier? You mean it's hardly been a day since the attack?"

"Less than three hours, in fact. I put a deep sleep charm on you so you'd rest undisturbed. Poor Miss Luralby was too weak to cast one on. Had I done that, she most likely would not have woken up for several months. Considering her condition, I'm surprised she survived at all."

Draco began to arch a brow, but cringed as a searing pain shot through his forehead. "Condition?"

Almost immediately, the nurse realized she had made a mistake saying anything, and exited quickly. When she reached the door, she paused and turned back to Draco. "If you are feeling up to it, you may go back to your dormitory. You have no need to stay here."

Confused by Madam Pomfrey's actions, as she was usually so careful to keep students under her care as long as necessary (or before Professor McGonagall told her keeping a student with a scrape on his arm for a week was impractical), Draco did as he was told, giving one last glance to Lisha, and headed out of the hospital wing.

Draco was greeted by a sharp cheer by those present in the Slytherin common room. Crabbe, overcome by some obscure emotion, got Draco in a bear hug, nearly crushing his ribcage. Pansy Parkinson sobbed and jumped into Draco's arms. Rather, she thrust her massive arms under Draco's and buried her bulldog face in his shoulder. Disgusted, he pried himself loose from her vice-grip and bolted through the corridor leading to the boy's dormitories.

Once Draco reached his room, he threw himself on his bed and hugged his pillow tightly. Then he did something he hadn't had done in a long time: he wept uncontrollably until he fell asleep hours after Crabbe and Goyle had retired for the night.  


***  


Draco awoke the next morning without remembering he had fallen asleep. In fact, he didn't realize he had until he recognized another presence in the room. Sitting at the end of his bed was the narrow, dark figure of Professor Blodsucan.

"P-Professor?" Draco pulled himself together at the head of his bed and sat up as straight as he could. Brushing the blonde strands that struck to his sweaty forehead, he asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to commend on your actions last night," Professor Blodsucan began. "Do you have any idea what you were attacked by?"

"Lisha told me it was a demon of some sort. She didn't tell me why it was there, though, only that it wasn't after me."

"Well, of course it wasn't after you, Draco. What you met last night in the woods was a bit more complicated than your basic demon. Grindylows are classified as demons as well, but demons have their own classes, you know. That demonic creature in the woods last night was your basic vampiric class of demon. They usually go after their own kind, you know." He raised his eyebrows.

"Really? I didn't know," Draco mumbled, trying to make sense of the professor's words.

Disappointed by Draco's humdrum answer, Professor Blodsucan pressed on. "Not many wizards and witches have ever survived an attack by a vampiric demon, much less another vampire."

Draco hesitated before answering. "Well, both of us survived, that's for sure. Madam Pomfrey says that Lisha's doing pretty bad, though. We don't know how she's going to turn out, if at all."

Professor Blodsucan sighed. "Perhaps you should see Severus. He knows more about these odd health matters than I ever will. I only protect people from attacks, I cannot heal them. Good day, Mister Malfoy."

Once the teacher had gone, Draco figured it may be a good idea to speak to Professor Snape. He was, after all, rather close to Lisha. When he was sure Blodsucan had disappeared, Draco stood and exited the boy's section of the Slytherin House. He stepped through the stone entrance, and walked down the hall to Professor Snape's bedroom.

He hesitated before knocking, breathed in deeply, then rapped sharply three times. There was no response.

"Professor Snape?" Draco called. "It's Malfoy, I need to speak with you."

Still, no reply.

Draco knocked once more. "Professor? It's urgent. I... Oh no!"

It was Thursday. Draco had forgotten that there was class today. He started running back to the Slytherin House, but stopped short as he reached the end of the hallway. _I have Defense Against the Dark Arts first on Thursdays,_ Draco thought. He looked at his watch. _Classes started a half hour ago. Shouldn't Professor Blodsucan be teaching right now?_

Ignoring that thought, he began jogging towards the House and ran smack into a tall, thin, dark figure.

"Mister Malfoy, what are you doing out of the hospital wing?" asked Professor Snape, looking rather unsettled and more lurid than usual.

"Class," Draco panted. "I have to go to class."

"Classes have been canceled today. What are you up to?" Professor Snape gave Draco one he had so often directed towards Harry Potter and his Gryffindor familiars, and crossed his arms across his chest, narrowing his black eyes.

Mustering up whatever courage hadn't been sucked from him last night, Draco said, "There's something wrong with Lisha, Professor Snape."

The Potions teacher's arms dropped to his side. For a moment, Snape looked like a troubled adolescent who, under the circumstances, appeared years older than he should. There was a lost expression on his face, even as he answered, "I know. I know better than you, better than Madam Pomfrey, and better than Albus Dumbledore."

"Tell me," Draco pleaded. His pale blue eyes filled with tears. "I have to help her. Please tell me what I can do. I'll do anything!" He paused. "I know what's been going on between you and Lisha," he added when he saw no change in the professor's cold stare.

Snape's eyes darted left and right, then he grabbed Draco's robe sleeve and dragged him down the hall towards his office. Roughly, he threw the bewildered boy into the room and slammed the door shut.

"Sit," he ordered. Draco, in confusion, scrambled to a chair and sat on the edge. The chair tipped over, but Draco quickly stood up and sat down correctly, adjusting his robes and then clutching his knees.

"So," Professor Snape said calmly, turning towards the wall nearest him, peering into a nearby curio cabinet full of different colored vials. "You figured out what was going on between Miss Luralby and myself?" Draco nodded. Snape opened the cabinet door and pulled out one of the vials. "I see. So you know about our relationship?" Again, Draco nodded.

Snape slammed the cabinet door closed and flew over to Draco. He shoved the crystal bottle in his hand under Draco's nose. "Do you know what this is?"

Shocked by Snape's sudden movements, Draco sat still for a while without even breathing. Finally, he willed himself to shake his head and move his face away.

"The things in this bottle are all magical substances. They are only used with certain individuals, most of which were originally witches and wizards." Snape swirled the solution around in the vial. The large pieces of precipitate collected in the middle and settled, taking up half the space in the bottle.

Draco shook his head, and swallowed the lump of fear that had formed in his throat. "I don't understand what you mean. Originally witches and wizards?"

"Well," Snape said, through a malicious grin. "Well. Vampires usually target those who have power. The bodies of us wizards contain magic down to the tiniest cell. The blood accommodates the major source of power. While regular, once-human vampires attack simply for the blood, vampires that were once wizards don't attack for the blood, they attack for the power. It isn't a very well-known fact that vampires are the only beings who can absorb the power of a wizard in this manner, or else everyone could suck us dry of magic." Draco's blank stare told Snape he wasn't fully understanding that which he was saying.

He continued to clarify. "The teal potion you see in here is a synthetic blood. It contains the power of wizards who have been stripped of their magical abilities. Most of what is in here is from prisoners in Azkaban after they go completely off their rocker, as you may say, or just before the Dementors deliver their 'kiss of death.' This potion is very rare and difficult for just _anyone_ to obtain.

"The myth about vampires only being allowed after dark comes from this." Snape lifted the vial. "Centuries ago, the solution was easily decomposed, and could only be taken in the morning when it was obtained, or as soon as it was made which was difficult to do. Besides being easily decayed, it was very weak, and lasted only about twelve hours. By the time night came, the wizard vampires hungered for blood, and attacked several normal humans to obtain whatever power was in their blood (as some regular people have very small traces of magic in their body). For those wizard and witch vampires that prefer to be more less feral, this solution is provided to them for no cost."

Despite the whirling in his head that was being filled with all this clashing information, Draco was beginning to understand. "Are you saying that there is a vampire in this school, and you've been helping them?"

Snape's black eyes darkened over. "Nothing that is said in this room leaves this room. I'm giving you the information, and you will use it as you see fit."

"What does any of this have to do with Lisha?"

"Figure it out for yourself, Malfoy." Snape folded his hands and sat at his chair behind his desk, staring at Draco and waiting for his response.

Slowly, quietly, carefully, Draco answered. "Lisha Luralby is a vampire."

I guess you could have figured this out by now. T_T Draco's just a bit slower than you! Sorry, but there are even more surprises in the next chapter! MUHAHA!!


	14. Draco Malfoy and the Bloodstone Chapter ...

malfoyz14

Sorry for the delay... again... guys. I know I promised the next chapter would come faster but... I guess not!

_Draco Malfoy_  
And the Bloodstone  
__ _ _ _ _By Ti'ana_

_Chapter Fourteen  
_

Draco sat in a daze for a few moments. Finally, he looked up to see Professor Snape pacing back and forth. Draco couldn't even remember him standing up.

Summoning a bit of strength to speak, Draco asked, "How long has she been like this? How did it happen?"

"It's a very long story, Mister Malfoy, and I don't have the authority to tell you anyway. I can, though, tell you it happened here at Hogwarts in her, your, first year."

"I didn't know we had a vampire problem here at Hogwarts, ever. Vampires are not even mentioned in _Hogwarts, A History_."

Snape's face grew hard. He bit his bottom lip for a moment, and then turned away quickly. "That book is worthless for information. It glorifies the school, leaving out so many important details. Werewolves, vampires, demons, Lord Voldemort— you won't see any of those characters or incidents involving them in there."

Draco was persistent. "How did it happen?"

"It's not up to me to tell you. It doesn't matter. Time is short, and Lisha's body will fail her if you don't hurry.""If Lisha is a vampire, she's already dead, isn't she? Undead."

Snape turned around to face Draco once again. "Technically speaking, Lisha is 'undead,' as you put it. She has a heartbeat, her blood still flows and needs oxygen. Therefore, physical harm will indeed hurt her. However, she has no life-force. Her soul has been lost, and there is only one way for it to be retrieved."

Draco pressed on further. "How is that? I'll do anything I can to help her!"

Snape's mouth began to form a "no," but he stopped himself and held up an index finger. "There is a way."

"Tell me!"

"You researched vampires for your Defense Against the Dark Arts class. What did you learn about the Bloodstone?" Draco told him about the leader of the vampires, the crystal substance that contains it, the lair of the vampire leader, and so on. "Well, then, all you need to do is find the leader of the vampires."

Draco scoffed and crossed his arms. "You make it seem so easy, so obvious. Do ***you know where the leader of the vampires hides? Do ***you know how to get to the hidden lair? Do..."

"Yes, no, and probably. Tell ***me something, Mister Malfoy. Of everyone in this school, who would the most obvious vampire be?"

Draco thought of Professor Snape's sallow skin, hooked nose and god-awful temper. "Well, you, I'd suppose."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "By now, it should be rather obvious. You are the only person he's hinted it at. I am the only one who knows for sure. Even Professor Dumbledore is ignorant to this teacher's status, though Albus is aware he is a vampire."

Draco cogitated.

_**[A/N COME ON DRACO! All the readers have guessed!]**_

"Professor McGonagall? No, she's not a he."

"It's the only position that's been a problem in the past several years, Draco."

"Hagrid? Nah, there'd be more deaths to feed that huge body..."

"The string of unicorn killings! The only one we've had in three years!"

"I don't know what the significance of unicorn killings is."

Snape sighed. "The unicorn is one of the few creatures that can tell the difference between a vampire from an ordinary human, or wizard. Also, it has been theorized that they are sensitive to the different classes of vampires. Namely, a regular vampire species from the actual leader of the vampires." Draco's face was still blank. "Think of it this way– the unicorns have been slaughtered. It's much different from what happened three years ago."

"So," Draco said, finally catching on._** [A/N Finally...]**_ "It would have to be someone who's new to the school?" Snape didn't nod, but Draco saw the confirmation in his expression. "Well, the only _teacher_ new to the school is Professor Blodsucan, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher... the only position that's been a problem in the past three years. How do you know for sure?"

Professor Snape sat behind his desk. "There were many hints. It's very complicated, and time is short. Don't worry about it, Draco, just do what you can to find the Port Key and _help save Lisha_. Time is short, I don't know if she will survive."

Draco left Snape's office utterly confused. So, Professor Blodsucan was the Head Vampire. What was he supposed to do with this information? Draco's first thought was to destroy him, but how do you kill the ***master of all vampires? Most likely, he was much stronger than the rest, and stronger than any mortal.

There was only one other solution.

The Bloodstone.

Draco would have to heal Lisha, turn her back into a mortal being with a soul. At first, Draco figured it would have to be much more difficult just to give someone their soul back, but after a few second of contemplation, it seemed near impossible a task. How was he supposed to get to the lair of the Master Vampire?

"The Port Key!" Draco exclaimed suddenly, then looked up and down the halls to see if anyone had heard his outburst. The coast was clear. As a precaution, he lowered his voice, but kept speaking to himself as he walked. "The Port Key to the vampire's lair is always near the Master Vampire." The image of Blodsucan's office flashed in his head. It was extremely cluttered. Meaning, Draco would have to go through every one of his items one by one.

"Think, Dracs, think! The book said the Port Key will be very antediluvian, one amongst many other objects like it. But what is antediluvian." Draco tried to pull the word apart. "'Ante' usually means 'before.' But what about -diluvian? Damn, I wish we had one of those lame Muggle dictionaries. Oh!" Draco bumped roughly into another student, and quickly mumbled an apology.

"How very uncharacteristic of you, Malfoy, I'm touched." Hermione Granger adjusted her robes and crossed her arms tightly. "Harry said you had been acting very out of persona lately."

_Granger must be the most intelligent witch in the school_, Draco thought. _And she's a Mudblood. She grew up in the Muggle world, she knows plenty about it_. "Hermione, what's antediluvian mean?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "'Hermione'?" She stepped back. "Now I'm just frightened."

"Hermione, I'm serious! What does it mean?"

"Antediluvian means old, antique, outdated, aged, timeworn, venerable..."

Synonyms continued to flow from Hermione's lips, but Draco wasn't paying attention. _The item is old_, he thought. _Plenty of stuff in Blodsucan's office is old. They're all antiques._

"I'll just go through everything, one by one," Draco said aloud. "Thanks, Granger." He rushed off towards Blodsucan's office.

Without thinking, he knocked on the door, and then froze in terror. What would he say? Excuse me, Professor Blodsucan, I just want to look for a Port Key to the head vampire's lair. Not that I'm saying you are the head vampire or anything.It wouldn't work.

Thankfully, their was no response, but the door creaked open. Draco stepped in, and looked through the mess. Instantly, he began touching every object in sight. Calath's carpet, Marivlo's statue, everything. After several minutes of touching everything, he sighed. There was just _too_ much to look through, but he couldn't stop. He couldn't leave Lisha to die.

Suddenly, Draco was struck with a memory as his eyes laid on an ancient goblet.

"Don't touch that!" Blodsucan had cried.

That seemed too easy. There must have been a catch. The goblet was just sitting on the pile of antiques, not standing out too much, but with no indication that one should not touch it. Any innocent observer, with no idea that this object would transport them to a place only the undead have seen, would be drawn into the Master Vampire's lair. But Draco had been forewarned.

Now, Draco reached forward to trace his fingers along the patter carved in the metal, and there was no teacher to stop him.Without warning, Draco lurched forward and was pulled into the goblet just as the door to the office opened


	15. Draco Malfoy and the Bloodstone Chapter ...

um... wow... that took a long time. I've had this written for a while, but now I'm putting it up finally. People have been bugging me to ^_^

Draco Malfoy  
And the Bloodstone  
_ _ _ _ _By Ti'ana

Chapter Fifteen  


Since he was a child, Draco had heard several tales about the Vampire realm, and many of them contradicted each other. One such fable told of a magnificent castle set in a cave hundreds of feet below the Earth. Another mentioned a similar castle in a field of light that any vampire could bear, even those who were weakened by the sun.

Needless to say, Draco was pretty disappointed when he found himself thoroughly lost in a cold, desolate underground labyrinth.

Not only was he disappointed, but scared out of his wits. It seemed every dark corner whispered unwelcome comments, while flashes of red eyes appeared every so often. None of those childhood fairy tales, told to him only by the paintings hanging on the walls (for his parents were not the storytelling kind), had prepared him for this.

He left the goblet Port Key where it had brought him, wishing for that familiar cold-hearted self of his to sink in so he could return to the wizard world uncaring for Lisha's safety. Of course, that never happened. Lisha had changed him, and he could not turn back now. So he kept going forward.

After what seemed to be an eternity of moving forward, Draco reached a large cavern with several branching tunnels. It occurred to him only now that the cave should have been very dark, but there was indeed a bit of light. If the light had a source, it was this room. It seemed that here all the whispering had stopped and the red eyes were gone.

There was no doubt in his mind, though he could not see it, that this was the chamber that held his treasure, the Bloodstone. In his mind, Draco had pictured the keep of the Bloodstone to be a mile-high chamber, much like this one, though empty save the Bloodstone, supported by an invisible force above a crystal goblet.

The room he was currently in looked more like a cathedral. From the ceiling came that bright light which struck him upon his entrance. The walls were bare rock, but extremely smooth and glossy. Steps carved into the floor led up to a platform with an altar, with intricately designed markings. The ceiling on that part had a low overhead, and arched over the table. But the altar was bare.

A terrible, ear-piercing screeching noise, of a like to nails on a chalkboard, echoed throughout the room.It was followed by a prolonged low hiss. Draco turned quickly, but found nothing.

"Wh-who's there?" His voice, while he tried to remain calm, broke unsteadily. "Where are you?"

"Can't you ssssee usss?" The voice came from less than three yards from where Draco stood.

"He cannot, my dear, I guessss," hissed another equally close creature.

"Immmposssible!" cried the first. Draco heard a low thump. "He is a curssssed one, a damned one. What businesss do you have in these partss?"

Draco figured the creature was speaking to him. Trying on his hardy façade, he responded, "Where are you?"

"Hear that, my dear? He cannot ssseee us after all!"

"Do you suppose we should ssssshow ourselvess?"

"He is not an enemy if he cannot ssseee usss. I believe we are sssafe to show this mortal our physical selvesss."

Not five feet from where he stood appeared, seemingly from thin air, two dog-sized snakelike creatures with four legs pressed against each of their serpentine bodies. They were entirely white with pearly scales and a red crest on their heads. Their eyes looked like polished golden marbles with dots of red for pupils. Upon initially seeing them, Draco's first intuition was that they were basilisks, but he was not frozen solid at this point.

"What are you?"

The creature closest to him seemed to sob. "We are damned!"

The other rolled his large eyes back and hissed. "Ssservantss to the undead. We are the lost ssssouls of innocent victims to the innnfamouss Vampire King."

This assured Draco that these snake-beings were not his enemies. They were allies, unless they were incredibly hungry, and a group of them would come overtake him. Out of fear, he asked, "Are there more of you?"

"Many more, but we are the only ones in thisss temple. We are the privileged guardianss of the Bloodsssstone. But we hate Blodsucan just as much as all of his ssservantss here, usss, his minionsss."

The less-composed snake wailed. She (Draco had assumed this one was a female) wrapped her long, thick body around Draco's legs. "You mussst destroy Blodsucan! As long as he livesss our souls will never ressst!"

"How, though? He isn't an ordinary vampire, and I could never kill anyone!"

"What kind of a Malfffoy are you?" The male hissed. "Besssides, you don't have to kill anyone. Jussst trap him."

"Trap him?"

"Yesss! In thiss realm!"

Draco thought for a moment. How could he possibly trick Professor Blodsucan into being stuck in his own realm? There was still the issue as to how he could help Lisha.

"All right," Draco said. "An ultimatum."

Both snakes raised their heads to Draco's eye level, listening.

"You give me access to the Bloodstone so I can help my friend. Then, I will return, and you can tell me how to get rid of Blodsucan."

The snake creatures hissed excitedly. "Finally, freedom for our pathetic souls!"

The less-composed snake unwrapped herself from Draco's legs, and quickly slithered over to the male. "Shall we, then?"

"Yesss."

Just as the two snakes had appeared mysteriously, so did, in between the two of them, a crystal goblet. Suspended in midair, just as he imagined, was a blood-red disk. It bled a crimson liquid steadily into the goblet, which was overflowing with the substance. That which dripped out of the goblet disappeared in a furl of smoke once it hit the floor.

"Take the goblet," the male snake ordered. "And be careful. For this is the only one of its kind, and the crystal used for it is very fragile and even more rare. Only Blodsucan has accessss to thiss form of crysstal. It is the only one which can contain the liquid from the Bloodssstone. Good luck, our sssovereign."

The snakes laughed maliciously. Without thinking, Draco turned around and ran in the direction from which he came, headed back towards the Port Key.


	16. Draco Malfoy and the Bloodstone Chapter ...

I know this one is short, but I needed to put up another chapter and fast.

Draco Malfoy  
And the Bloodstone  
_ _ _ _ _By Ti'ana

Chapter Sixteen  


When Draco arrived back at Hogwarts, he was thrown so violently into the room that the Bloodstone goblet in his hand swayed a bit and some of the liquid spilled out. The goblet itself was not all that big, and every drop was vital to bringing Lisha back to health. The Port Key Draco had used lay on its side on the floor. He cautiously kicked it under Blodsucan's desk, hoping that the action would not pull him back into the vampire's lair, and it didn't.

"I'm coming Lisha," Draco murmured. Collecting himself, he looked about the room. The door to the office was open. He ***had heard the door open when he was pulled into the goblet, but who had it been?He would have to worry about this later. Lisha's life was hanging in the balance, and there wasn't a second to spare.

With his hand covering the top of the goblet, Draco ran down the corridor in the direction of the hospital wing. On his way, he was fortunate enough to run into Professor Snape.

"I've got it," Draco panted. He presented the teacher with the goblet.

Professor Snape's sallow skin was even more pallid than usual, but in recent times, Draco had grown accustomed to the worn look of the Potion's Master.His hands which were clasped in front of him were trembling something terrible. "We are in danger, Draco. You, myself, Lisha, the entire faculty and student body."

"What– what do you mean?" Draco's voice broke off in a whisper. "What is going to happen?"

"I have found some documents of Blodsucan's. It turns out that he has been planning to use Hogwarts as a breeding ground for the evildoings of Voldemort for the past thirteen years. He was meaning to use the Quidditch match next week to unleash his minions from the vampire realm to overtake Hogwarts. If they are allowed to-"

Draco cut Professor Snape short. "His minions? What do you mean?"

"Why, his Shades," Snape answered, rather perplexed. "Though I don't suppose you would have found them in any of your vampire books outside of Hogwarts itself. The Shades are the souls of those who have lost their lives to a vampire's bite.It is very infrequent that Shades are 'born,'so to speak. Vampires have alternatives, you know."

"No," Draco cut in. "Those Shades, they look like snakes, sort of?" Snape nodded. "I met them! They would never help Blodsucan. They hate him!"

"And you believed them! Malfoy, don't you understand the severity of this situation? When the Death Eaters broke up, they all swore that they revoked their pledge of fealty to Voldemort.Do you believe them, Malfoy? Even... your father?"

No.

"It's no matter now, Draco. The Shades cannot disobey Blodsucan. They cannot speak against him in his own place without him knowing. Voldemort had ears everywhere; so does Blodsucan." Snape paused and winced, as if the thought of his next words was painful. "Even here in Hogwarts, we are not safe."

Draco's eyes began tearing. Not in the way that one cries when they are sad, or even scared, but when they are overwhelmed by an unexpected truth, a difficult task or the arrival of a Howler. "What can we do?"

"Nothing."Snape turned sharply around.He began pacing. "There is only one way, Draco, and only one person in all of Hogwarts has the sanctifying power to fight an entire stadium of Shades."

Sanctifying, Draco thought. Sanctifying. Sancti. Lux Sancti!

"Lisha!"

"Which is why it is important that you bring the goblet right to her.Her fate in death as the Sacrosanct Vampire by the hand of a minion of evil is worse than becoming a Shade."

Draco did not ask what that terrible fate was. "I'll get to her. I swear it, I will make sure that Lisha is well enough to go to the Quidditch match." He started walking away.

"And Draco?"

He turned around.

A sinister look crossed Snape's face all of a sudden. "I expect optimal performance next week. You have had your rest. It's time for a Slytherin victory." He offered a feeble smile.

"Yes, sir!"

***

"I can't do it," Lisha's dull eyes stared up at Draco.

"You have to! No one else in Hogwarts, maybe even England, has the power to defeat Blodsucan. Don't be selfish and worry about yourself, Luralby! Think of the world!"

Lisha turned her face away. It seemed that motion took much of her energy. Her voice was low and emotionless. "My concern is not with myself. I lost self-regard years ago. I have no will left, Malfoy. That liquid you hold in the goblet is not a cure-all for vampires. I am not just a vampire."

"You are a Sacrosanct Vampire. Professor Snape told me so."

"No, Draco. I am the Sacrosanct Vampire.The only one. The chosen one. Even Professor Snape cannotknow how to heal me." She rested the back of her head on the pillow.

Draco was adamant. "Tell me." His eyes softened a bit, and he laughed nervously, toying with the rim of the goblet containing the precious elixir. "I have to play in the Quidditch match next week. And you have to be there, cheering me on."

Lisha smiled weakly. Slowly and deliberately she reached her hand out and placed it lightly on Draco's. He looked up at her, red in the cheeks, but maintaining his demeanor."I saw it once," she whispered. "In Blodsucan's office. A vile filled with a liquid of the deepest red. That which you have now, the Bloodstone elixir, is worthless for now, but later on it may be my savior. I want you to leave it here, under the bed. I'll tell MadamPomfrey to make sure it remains there; she won't ask to many questions." Lisha's eyes closed, head tilted forward, and her breathing became slow and rhythmic as if she had fallen asleep. But she continued speaking in this posture. "I am counting on you, Draco Malfoy.We all are."


End file.
